


Red Carnations and Purple Hyacinths

by chaotic_dumbass



Series: Flowers and All The Things After That [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki AU, Hope's Peak AU, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Pining, Vomiting, it's ouma not oma lads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotic_dumbass/pseuds/chaotic_dumbass
Summary: Ouma stares at the flowers that litter before his feet, each one a shade of gold that seemed to glitter in the darkness of his room.The blood that had come out together with the flowers was there too, the disgusting color mocking him, reminding him of the fact that just as his class despised him, so did the one person he learned to love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!!!
> 
> I don't have much to say thank you to everyone in the Oumasai discord!!! Ya'll kept me going and motivated me to finish this fic!!! Love ya'll <3
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be a two parter but it was getting really long (around 6000?) and I wanted to post something by now. I'll try to post it slowly until I run out and have to write again. Rip.
> 
> Enjoy this mess!
> 
> UPDATE: Tried to fix some stuff some friends told me I missed. Thanks guys!
> 
> I wrote this on my phone pls help me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma stares at the flowers that litter before his feet, each one a shade of gold that seemed to glitter in the darkness of his room.
> 
> The blood that had come out together with the flowers was there too, the disgusting color mocking him, reminding him of the fact that just as his class despised him, so did the one person he learned to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!!!
> 
> I don't have much to say here except thank you to all my friends from the Oumasai discord who managed to give me enough motivation to write this thing!!! love you guys <3
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this mess!

_\--5 Weeks Left--_

Ouma stares at the flowers that litter before his feet, each one a shade of gold that seemed to glitter in the darkness of his room.

The blood that had come out together with the flowers was there too, the disgusting color mocking him, reminding him of the fact that just as his class despised him, so did the one person he learned to love.

His vision is slightly blurry, throat sore from the small flowers that had come out of it. He coughed again, leaning on his desk as he did so, fingers gripping the edge tightly.

No flowers come out.

Ouma stays like that for a few minutes, leaning on his desk as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He laughed bitterly now and then, realizing that out of everything he had done in his lifetime, some stupid disease would be the one to take him down.

He thought maybe, just maybe, it would be better to have gone out with a bang, an ending made for a supreme leader and a good-for-nothing liar. But no, he was going to die all because the person he loved didn’t love him the same way he did.

He didn’t blame him though, everyone had a good reason to be angry at him. He played pranks on his classmates, mocked them, made them seem like total losers...who wouldn’t want him gone?

Apparently, that answer came in the form of one Saihara Shuichi.

Smart, clever, understanding, yet shy and quiet, Ouma always did see why someone as unpredictable as Saihara would be the one to claim the title of ‘Ultimate Detective’. He always managed to solve the strangest mysteries, even those that didn’t seem to have enough evidence to actually accuse someone for them. Ouma even remembers the times Saihara was able to see through his lies, calling him out on them moments later no matter how much everyone believed in his lies.

The ability Saihara had to be unpredictable didn’t just stop there though. In fact, Ouma was shocked to learn that even after all the shit he’s pulled, angering all his classmates and getting them in trouble, Saihara, out of all his fifteen classmates, was the one to walk pass all those things and still consider him as his classmate and... _ha_...his  _friend_.

Saihara, he’d never understand why, was the only one to see pass those lies and try to understand who he was, why he did these things, why he does them, and so much more.

Of course, he’d never tell him the truth, just lies, lies, and more lies, each one overlapping with each other until it created a web of them. His classmates had been tangled in his web of lies for a long, long time...and yet...and yet...one of them had escaped, hand reaching out for Ouma to take.

Ouma never takes it. He doesn’t want to risk it. Just the thought of someone trusting him was already enough to make him feel confused. After all, what kind of person trusts a liar?

A person like Saihara would apparently.

He unties his scarf, the only thing that has some of his blood and that disgusting scent and drops it on the floor. He does his best to steady himself, walking over to the door, his hand shaking as he reached for the doorknob. His hand closes around the knob and he opens the door.

Suddenly, he realizes anyone can find him like this, pale, weak, and looking pathetic as hell. A face different from the Ouma Kokichi they all knew. Ouma felt sick at that. He had worked so hard just to push them away from him, a wall blocking him from the rest. It made him feel safe.

But what if this ruined all his work? The Ouma they saw then was nothing like the Ouma they could possibly see right now.

 _‘It’s around twelve in the morning, so there shouldn’t be any people right now.’_ Ouma thinks to himself, but the thought of getting caught is going to be pretty inconvenient for him, and blackmail is another possibility.

More and more horrible possibilities come to light and swirl around his head, dread filling him as each one seemed to have a gigantic ‘GAME OVER’ over it. He pushes those thoughts away as far as he could, a smile on his face ready for anyone to see him-

No one is there.

Ouma breathes a sigh of relief, the fear leaving his system as he walked out his room and down the hallway, mentally kicking himself for over analyzing the situation at hand.

 _‘I do this too much.’_ He jokingly thinks to himself, finally arriving to the end of the hallway where a small room with cleaning supplies was to be found. He grabs a mop, some plastic, and whatever he thinks can help him with his ‘little’ problem, and leaves, struggling to balance everything he’s carrying.

He exits the room, shoes echoing, a smile on his face, thinking that nothing can go wrong-

He bumps into someone.

‘ _I should really learn when to shut up.’_  He says to himself, looking up to see who bumped him, some witty remark ready to be fired at the tip of his tongue.

Saihara stares at him, wide-eyed.

“Of-fucking-course it’s Saihara-chan who finds me at a time like this.” He furiously mutters to himself while looking away from Saihara, cursing at himself for not thinking something like this could happen.

Oh wait,  _he did._

He quietly groans before he looks back at Saihara, a strained smile on his face, “Heeey, Saihara-chan! What are you doing at a time like this? They say ghosts lurk around at times like this, after all!”

Smooth. Ouma wants to kick himself.

Saihara laughs a little, hand nervously scratching his neck, “You should say that to Momota-kun,” He says, a smile on his face that makes Ouma’s heart jump, “Maybe he’ll tone down on the training we have. Maybe even change the time we do it, at least.”

 _‘Ah, so he was training with him.’_ Ouma doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I will, who knows? It’ll be a good scare for that dumb astronaut.”

He continues walking away, walking pass Saihara, “Well, I’ll be going then! See y-”

Saihara cuts him off, “Ouma-kun, what are you doing with all that stuff?”

Ouma’s smile thins.

 _Fuck_.

He shrugs at Saihara, turning back to look at him, “Hm, I decided to clean my room!”

“At twelve in the morning when we have classes in a few hours?” Saihara says, eyebrow raised.

“You’re training at twelve in the morning when we have classes in a few hours, Saihara-chan?” He says back, his smile turning into a frown, pretending to look disappointed, “And I thought Saihara-chan was more responsible!” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head with an amused expression, “I don’t know what to believe in anymore.”

Saihara looks like he really, really, wants to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t, choosing to look worried instead, “Ouma-kun...is something wrong?”

 _‘Everything.’_  Ouma nearly tells Saihara, but he lets go of some of the things he’s holding just so he could place both hands on his hips, “Noooope!” He says, leaning forward as he did so.

“...Your scarf.” Saihara mutters, hand reaching for a cap that was no longer there before putting it back down. Akamatsu had managed to get him to remove it, after all. Ouma thought he looked cuter like that.

“Hm, what’s that, Saihara-chan?”

“Where’s your scarf?” Saihara asks, hands gesturing to his own neck and then at Ouma’s.

“Ah, you noticed!” Ouma says, almost touching his exposed neck once he realized he forgot to get another scarf, “Well, I was going to...get a new one!” He says a bit too late.

“But...don’t you have spares in your room? You even told me so before.”

Why Saihara was getting worked up over his scarf, he’ll never figure it out, but he shrugs, “I’m going to get an even better one!” He says.

“I...okay…” Saihara says, realizing that he won’t get much out of Ouma, “Do you need help to carry all of...this at least?” He asks, hands gesturing at everything Ouma is carrying.

Ouma wants to say yes, but he hesitates, a smile on his face once more, “Nope! I can carry this aaaaall alone. A supreme leader has to have some muscle, doesn’t he?”

Saihara doesn’t look like he believes him, but he says nothing about it, hearing something in Ouma’s voice that seemed to say ‘Not now.’

Saihara sighs, “Well, if you say so, I guess,” Saihara walks the other way, back to his dorm across the hallway, “See you at class, then, Ouma-kun.”

“See ya later, Saihara-chan!” He says, waving at the detective.

Once Saihara is out of view, he frowns again, letting out another sigh of relief he didn’t know he needed.

He picks all his stuff up again and walks back to his room, hurrying this time to ensure no one else sees him.

He arrives moments later, nearly throwing all the stuff inside and slamming the door shut. He pants as if he ran a marathon, before straightening himself and picking the mop up.

“Welp! Here we go!” He says to no one in particular, and starts to mop the corner with the most blood he can see.

* * *

 

“Done.” He says, sighing, leaning on the wall of his room.

The room was finally clean, the blood stains finally gone, and those stupid, stupid, flowers wrapped in plastic. The mop is a strange shade of pink from the blood and he’s pretty sure he used too much bleach, a part of the dark brown floor looking a shade lighter than the original.

He sneaks out of the room once more, cleaning the mop and keeping the rest of the supplies.

He went out of the school, stared at the plastic full of flowers and his bloody scarf, turned a lighter that he had stolen from one of the teachers on, and set the bag on fire, the fire making sizzling and crackling noises as it did its job of getting rid of the flowers, melting the stuff together.

He stayed for a few minutes, waiting for the last bit of the fire to go out before crushing whatever evidence was left with his foot. Once all was done, he left as if nothing had happened, locking his door before he was reminded again that he had no scarf. Good thing he had a spare.

He walked over to his bed, kicking his shoes off before laying down on it and groaning. He coughed again, but luckily there were no flowers. Had there been more, this certainly would have been a much longer day.

After he stopped coughing, he glared at the ceiling for no reason, hand reaching out for it while the other was behind his head.

Months. He’s been doing this stupid routine for months. He wonders just how much time he has left, and if Saihara would ever return these feelings he had.

Ouma laughs a strained laugh at that. Of course no one would ever love him like that. It was impossible, ridiculous, insane, something he will never get, something he doesn’t deserve.

He would have gone as far as to say that he didn’t care, but every golden flower that fell from his mouth, and the vines that curled around his lungs, would tell the truth for him, would tell the whole world the truth for him, would tell _Saihara_ the truth for him. 

Ouma grimaces. He stops laughing, and he suddenly feels...loneliness. D.I.C.E would be there for him, yes, but would he be there for them? Would he live long enough to tell them about this? Would they care? Would they do anything about this? What if-

 _‘No, no, no. Shut up. ShUT UP.’_ Ouma tells himself, biting his lip in anger as he shook. 

He wraps himself with his blanket, turns to a corner, and lets a small sigh mixed with a sob out.

He’ll deal with this on another day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma stares at the bento before him. More specifically, the bento Saihara made for him.
> 
> He looked at the bento, then at Saihara, then at the bento, and then at Saihara once more. He can only look surprised before he says, “What.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!!! So since a majority of the fic is done, I'm just gonna post what I can! Hope you enjoy this one!

_\--4 Weeks Left--_

Ouma sits in the cafeteria after finding a table with only two chairs in the corner, taking his time to walk over to it before sitting down. He wasn’t here to eat lunch or anything, really, he just needed some time alone is all.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming closer and closer to him, and he hears the thud of something solid hitting the table.

Ouma stares at the bento before him. More specifically, the bento Saihara made for him.

He looked at the bento, then at Saihara, then at the bento, and then at Saihara once more. He can only look surprised before he says, “What.”

Saihara seems shocked at his response, a small blush forming on his face, “W-well, I h-haven’t seen you eat pretty much anything for days and I got a little worried and I just-” Saihara sighs and places his hand on his face, “I tried to make something for you, but I’m not sure if its good or not.”

Ouma looks down at the bento again. It was simple enough, just some rice and some beef with a few veggies here and there. It looked good to be honest. It was a kind gesture as well...but...Ouma really didn’t want to eat anything at the moment.

Ever since the disease grew worse and worse, his appetite seemed to die with it. It was so bad that even the thought of eating something made his stomach twist into a thousand knots.

Nonetheless, he picked his metal chopsticks up, picked up a piece of beef, shoved it into his mouth, and started chewing.

It wasn’t good, but it certainly wasn’t bad either. It was a little burnt and it tasted somewhat dry, but it was okay, really.

Saihara watches him chew the beef, “...how is it?” He asks hesitantly, and if they were in some game where the person starts sweating too much out of worry or fear, then Ouma was sure that was exactly what Saihara would have looked like.

“Hmmmm…” Ouma mutters, eyes closing for a second as he swallowed it, his stomach protesting against the food, “It’s...okay.”

“...you hesitated.”

“Do you want me to take it back?”

“N-no! I was-” Another sigh. Saihara sits down beside him, opening his own bento before placing some of his food into his mouth, “I just want to know how you really feel this time.”

Ouma feels a small blush form on his face and he rubs it, “Well, it’s up to you to figure out if I’m lying or not!” He says before leaning forward and whispering, “I’ll give you a hint: I’m telling the opposite of a lie.”

Saihara slumps in, as far as Ouma can tell, relief, eyes closing as he placed another piece of meat in his mouth.

Ouma doesn’t saying anything as he follows suit, his stomach still yelling at him to stop. Ouma ignores it.

“Well, Saihara-chan, is there anything else you need?” Ouma asks a few minutes later, balancing a piece of beef on his chopsticks, “Anything a supreme leader like me can give, anyway.”

“Um…” Saihara seems to contemplate this for a minute, tapping his bento with the chopsticks, “Oh! Momota-kun has been wanting me to try and-”

Saihara tells him of how Momota wants Saihara to try and help him find a way to finish a project due next week. Ouma listens to the whole story Saihara has, listening to Saihara’s voice and how it raises and lowers at some points, watching the strange hand gestures he made, enjoying their time together...Ouma would be lying if he said he wasn’t having some semblance of fun.

Once Saihara finishes, he looks back at Ouma and blushes, realizing he had been rambling on this whole time, “U-uh, so what should I do?”

“Well…” Ouma says, shoving another piece of beef into his mouth, “You could just give him some sort of game plan for it.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Give him a strategy, then let him do the work he has to do!”

 “Ah, I see. That could work,” Saihara says, smiling as he looked at Ouma, “Thank you, Ouma-kun”

Ouma hums, satisfied as he placed his bento down, “No problem, Saihara-chan!”

They continued chatting the day away, Ouma mixing a few lies into what he says while Saihara tries to pick out what was true and what was not. Saihara even tried to lie once, but he gave up once Ouma managed to call him out moments later, a sly smile on his face.

It was...fun? Interesting? Amazing? Ouma wasn’t exactly sure how to stick a title on this event he was having, just like how he couldn’t stick a title on Saihara.

 _‘That’s part of why I love him, isn’t it?’_ He muses to himself, closing his eyes and placing one hand on his chin, head resting on it as his sly smile turned peaceful. He was going to ignore this stupid disease for as long as he can, and he was going to enjoy whatever time he had left with this unpredictable detective.

“By the way, Ouma-kun…” Saihara suddenly says, placing his empty bento down as well, “There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something...important I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while...”

Ouma feels like he knows just exactly what Saihara was talking about, and he feels a mixture of dread and suspense form in his chest, making it harder to breathe with the flowers already there to kick that feeling into overdrive.. He opens his eyes midway, one eyebrow raised, a smile, as strained and as fake as it felt to him and possibly Saihara, on his face, “What is it?”

“I…” Saihara starts, pausing for a few seconds and leaving Ouma in suspense, before responding, “It’s about...last week…”

 _'Just as expected.’_ His eyes open a little more, “What about it, Saihara-chan? Came to ask me about my cleaning techniques or something. If you need those, you should ask Toujou-chan! If your lucky, you could even ask an Ultimate Janitor!”

“N-no! That’s not what I wanted to talk about at all!” Saihara says.

“It isn’t? Then maybe you wanna ask how I was strong enough to carry all that! Alright, I’ll tell you! So-”

“O-Ouma-kun-”

“That’s not it either? Perhaps you want-”

 _“Ouma-kun,”_ Saihara says, hand slamming down on the table, surprising both boys and everyone around them, “Please. Stop that. M-maybe this isn’t important to you, but it is for me, at least,” Saihara places both hands on his pants, hands turning into fists and scratching the fabric, “So please, let me finish.”

Ouma stops talking, noticing the sudden seriousness he can hear in Saihara’s voice, “Well, Saihara-chan?” He says, his expression stoic and his voice losing all playfulness in it, “What did you want to know?”

Saihara looks relieved from Ouma’s decision to agree to listen to him, but scared at the same time from the sudden seriousness Ouma showed.

He takes a deep breath, “Ouma-kun...what were you-”

They both jump at the sound of the bell, the obnoxious noise ringing across the halls.

He had to get away.

Quickly, he stood up from the table, placing his hands on the back of his head, smiling playfully as he turned around and away from Saihara, already taking a few steps out of the cafeteria, “Welp, looks like I gotta go, Saihara-chan! We’ll have this conversation later. See you later, Saihara-chan!”

“W-wait!” Saihara yells, about to stop Ouma, but the boy is already gone, footsteps echoing farther and farther away from the cafeteria.

Saihara sighs for the hundredth time that day, and leaves the cafeteria, both bentos in hand.

Saihara realizes Ouma’s bento is still half full.

* * *

Ouma continued to run, hand on his mouth as he felt bile rising up his throat.

He realized that the pain he felt when eating the bento wasn't his hunger or anything like that from the start, but the disease getting even worse, the metallic taste of his own blood already at his tongue.

He found the closest bathroom he could reach, ripping the door open and shutting it with a loud bang, locking it with shaking hands before running over to the toilet.

He makes it there just in time for the flowers to come pouring through his mouth, the loose thorn filled vines that had previously wrapped around his windpipe joining them and scratching his already injured throat. He can feel tears pricking his eyes and he lets them fall, making odd noises as he sobbed through the whole ordeal.

It hurts. It hurts so much. He wanted to scream, but nothing comes out of his mouth but a strained sigh as he used one hand to hold his throat, covering his mouth with his other hand as he started coughing up some blood once more.

A few minutes later, he was leaning on the toilet, gasping as he took each breath, the sickly sweet scent of the flowers mixing with the horrible scent of his own blood, his clean hand on his chest as he let fresh hot tears silently fall down his already tear filled face.

The bell rings again, reminding him that class had already started and that the teacher would check the attendance, asking Ouma and anyone else who would happen to be late for an excuse if he comes even just a second late.

Ouma doesn’t move. He chooses to lean on the wall instead, his breathing the only noise he could hear and the pale and yellowish walls of the bathroom the only thing he sees. He wonders if Saihara got to class in time and if the boy would lie or just tell the truth. He wouldn't know, the detective never did become as predictable as the others.

He uses his hand to cover his eyes, smiling as he raised his head and laughed loudly, knowing no one would hear him at this point in time. It was a simple laugh, at first, the kind of laugh that someone made when a friend tells them a good joke, but the laugh turned bitter, an occasional cough and a wheezing noise leaving him. Then, he stopped laughing, buried his face in his hands, and started screaming, the sound muffled by his hands.

He was a fucking mess and if he tried denying it, well, the flowers and his attitude towards literally anyone and anything were enough proof to contradict his statements right then and there.

A few minutes later, he does his best to stand up and nearly stumbles in the process, still dizzy and tired, his throat still sore. He does his best to get rid of any evidence he was here, clapping his hands together when he finished. He walks out of the bathroom like nothing happened, entered the classroom, lied to his teacher about his whereabouts, shaking of their concern, and returned to his seat, his facade back up.

 _‘I don't have much time now, do I?’_ He shakes his head, fingers drumming on his desk, smile twitching when no one looked. He has to stop himself from laughing the same way he did a while ago. He has to stop himself from laughing at all unless he really wanted everyone in his class to think he's gone completely insane.

_‘Ha.’_

_‘It's only a matter of time before I'm gone.’_

He wasn't going to let go of this love, even if it kills him. Not if he can help it.

Not when he still had time to enjoy this feeling.

Not when the feeling, the chance, the hope, that maybe, who knows when, Saihara would love him back someday.

Ouma lets out a snort at that, ignoring the looks he got from others as he did so, allowing his thoughts to wander instead of actually focusing on the lesson at hand.

He draws a small flower in his notebook, coloring it in with gold. If anyone had looked a little closer, they would have noticed some pink he had put on the tip of one petal


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...and why are you following me?” He asks, breaking from his shock as he crossed his arms, ignoring the throbbing pain in his throat as he spoke, “Are you trying to look for my secret organization, Saihara-chan? Because let me tell you, your plan isn’t foolproof.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Of course I wasn’t looking for your secret organization!” Saihara says, finally standing straight, hands fidgeting, nervous, “Its just...you’re always alone when you walk home...and it looked really lonely. So...I was going to try and walk with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi my name is simone and i forgot to update the fic a few days ago
> 
> enjoy this chapter tho!!!

_\--3 Weeks Left--_

 

Ouma can barely speak without his throat starting to hurt moments later.

“Here, try this.” The nurse said, handing over a small orange packet with a pill in it, “It should at least help lessen the pain.”

He stares at the small packet, wondering if its powerful enough to actually lessen the pain or if it was just those cheap pills you shouldn’t trust, a thought to ignore all the other ones swirling around his head.

He debated with himself for a few minutes before ripping the packet open, popping the pill into his mouth and swallowing it, his sore throat making the experience much worse.

Once he finished, he gave a quick nod at the nurse and walked out of the infirmary, ignoring the pain in his lungs that followed him around. He didn’t mention it out of fear that the nurse would interrogate him about it and possibly find the root of its cause.

 _‘Ha, root.’_ Ouma feels his smile twitch just a little bit and his lungs constrict for a moment.

It was dismissal time and he watched the other students exit the school, chatting and laughing with their friends as they walked to the dorms, the opposite of where he was going.

Each student was given a dorm, meaning that was where they should reside during school hours. It was a Friday, though, so they were allowed to roam around and such, seeing as there were no classes tomorrow.

He saw Saihara together with Momota and Akamatsu, the two smiling as they listened to Saihara say something with a worried face. Momota pats him on the back while he says something Ouma can only guess as ‘inspirational’. Saihara laughs. Ouma’s heart skips a beat.

He watches the trio leave, going to the opposite direction he was going to as well. That road was where there were houses after all. He turned to leave, steps echoing on the empty road as he walked to his own house.

Approximately, it took around thirty minutes to actually get to his house on foot, twenty minutes if he ran. How long it took to get to his house on car or with a bike, he would never know, especially since he didn’t exactly have the luxury he said he had to afford that kind of stuff. Hell, he barely had enough to feed his own frien-no- _family._

 _‘There’s no way I could take care of someone like Saihara-chan.’_ He tells himself, imagining what kind of life Saihara has and how different it was from his own.

Would he have managed to take care of Saihara too? Make him lunch? Tell _him_ everything about himself like it was something so casual to talk about?

Ouma shakes his head. No. He can’t think of that now, not when he has other pressing matters coming into full bloom.

_‘Full bloom, huh? Guess I’ve finally reached that level where you try to laugh everything off. Oh wait, I’ve been there since the start. Ha ha, how fun.’_

Ouma wants to punch himself.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps a few feet behind him, the sound echoing as the person came closer and closer.

He doesn’t turn around, but he walks faster. As far as he’s concerned, this mystery person was a threat, and he was not going to try and deal with it right now.

The sound of footsteps begin to go faster and Ouma has to suppress a loud yelp as the person holds his shoulder from behind.

He takes a deep breath, turns around, and raises his fist, ready to punch the person following him. He wasn’t the strongest, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.

He lowers his fist as he sees the person following panting, face flushed. He can’t stop the shock from his voice, “Saihara-chan!?”

Saihara continues panting, both hands on his knees as he did so, “O...Ouma-kun! I didn’t think I’d be able to get to you…”

“...and _why_ are you following me?” He asks, breaking from his shock as he crossed his arms, ignoring the throbbing pain in his throat as he spoke, “Are you trying to look for my secret organization, Saihara-chan? Because let me tell you, your plan isn’t foolproof.”

“Of course I wasn’t looking for your secret organization!” Saihara says, finally standing straight, hands fidgeting, nervous, “It's just...you’re always alone when you walk home...and it looked really lonely. So...I was going to try and walk with you.”

“Oh.” Ouma can’t help but feel shocked again, completely baffled by Saihara’s actions. One day, Saihara doesn’t talk to him at all. Then the next, he decided to actually walk with him.

_‘Just how unpredictable is he?!’_

Ouma claps his hands together, “All right then, Saihara-chan!” He grabs Saihara’s arm and starts walking again, “Let’s go!”

Saihara seems shocked when Ouma turns to look at him, most likely expecting him to turn his offer down and make a run for it. Ouma would have picked that option, but he had a deadline now, and he’d rather try and actually enjoy whatever time he had left to be with Saihara.

He begins singing as he let go of Saihara’s arm, walking a little faster, hands on his back, “I’m gonna live...‘till I die…”

“I’m gonna laugh ‘stead of cry…” He hears Saihara sings back, slightly out of tone. Saihara smiles at him.

Ouma smiles back, glad that someone recognized one of the songs he was singing, “I’m gonna take the town and turn it upside down…”

At the same time they sing, “I’m gonna live, live until I die!”

They stare at each other for a moment before they burst into laughter. This almost felt like a weird inside joke between...friends.

“I didn’t know Saihara-chan liked those kinds of songs!” Ouma says, hiding the fact he was very glad.

“Ah, my uncle really likes them, so I hear it a lot. I guess I just got attached to some of them.” Saihara replies. He walks faster to catch up to Ouma, hands shoved into his pocket as the day grew colder.

“Cool!” Ouma says, turning to look at Saihara and grinning.

“I guess so.” Saihara agrees.

They walk in comfortable silence, much to Ouma’s relief. He doubts that his throat could take another conversation without feeling like it was on fire whenever he opened his mouth.

He wonders how different this scenario could have gone had Saihara seen him as more than just a friend. Would they be holding hands? Telling stories? Why the hell was he thinking about all these things at a time like this, anyway?

Ouma bites his lip.

A few minutes pass before Ouma could see the last few roads he had to walk through to lead him to his house. He tries to think of a lie right then and there, not wanting Saihara to see his house. His family was there and they knew about his disease and just who was causing it. Inviting Saihara to his house would be...awkward.

Lucky for him, Saihara’s phone began ringing.

Saihara grabs his phone from his pocket, the word ‘Amami-kun’ in all caps as the phone waited for Saihara to either answer the call or ignore it. Saihara presses the answer button.

“Hello, Amami-kun?” Saihara says, covering his other ear with his hand, “Yes, I’m free...ah, I see…” He looks back at Ouma and then at the phone, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Goodbye.”

Saihara lowers the phone and looks back at Ouma, an apologetic smile on his face, “Amami-kun needs my help to tutor some of his sisters. He thinks I have a better chance at getting them to understand the lesson. Do you mind if I…?” Saihara points at the road.

 _‘Ah, he’s asking me if he can leave.’_  Ouma smiles, shrugging and waving his hand, “Eh, sure.”

Saihara thanks him, gave one last goodbye, and began to walk away from Ouma.

Ouma can’t tell if he’s relieved Saihara left, or if he’s sad because Saihara left.

Either way, he turns around and keeps walking to his home.

Or, whatever he could consider his home.

He stared at the house in front of him. It was a small one really, the paint peeling off and the windows cracked.  Nonetheless, it was his home.

It had been abandoned when the Remnants of Despair had wreaked havoc in the country. No one ever came back for house. Ouma had found it and told D.I.C.E that it was their new home. No one complained, seeing as this house was ten times better than sleeping in some alleyway.

Sadly, he couldn’t stay in his house because Hope’s Peak had required that they stay in their dorms or around the campus. All Ouma could do now was visit them now and then.

Ouma pushed the door open, the loud sound of creaking following it. The inside of the house was just as dilapidated. There was more peeling paint here too, the furniture looking rather old and some bookshelf had toppled over long ago.

“I’m home!” Ouma happily calls out.

He hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs and he sees one of the members with pigtails come down, eyes glittering as she caught sight of Ouma, “Ah, welcome home, Ouma-kun! The rest went out for a while, if you must know.”

It’s good to see you again, Shiori-chan!” Ouma says, watching Shiori close another book she was reading.

“You say that as if you haven’t seen us in years.”

“It _has_ been years!”

“Ouma-kun, it’s been one week.”

“I don’t see your point.”

Shiori rolls her eyes, smiling fondly at Ouma, “C’mon, let’s go make something we can eat. We wouldn’t want Hiro-san to get worried about us again, do we?”

They both shuddered at the thought and Ouma agreed with her, nodding as they two walked into the tiny kitchen. All they really had was some tea, bread, jam, and a few leftovers from a time when they had enough money to buy some food from a small restaurant.

He helps Shiori make some food, toasting the bread while she makes some tea. Once they’re finished, they walk to the couch, sit on it, and place the food on the table in front of it.

They eat in silence, the only sound being the strange noises the couch made. Ouma hoped that it would stay like that for a while, sighing as he swallowed some tea and massaged his throat.

Shiori continues to read her book when she asks, “So, how are you feeling today, Ouma-kun?”

“I”m fine.” He says, ignoring the feeling that the question had a little more than just how he was feeling today.

“Mhm. How are you feeling about...that guy?” Shiori slowly asks, flipping the page of her book a little too fast.

“Same as always, Shiori-chan.” Ouma responds.

“Still in love?”

“Still in love, yes.”

“How was your week, then?”

“Couldn’t be any better.”

“What about-”

“Shiori-chan,” Shiori closes her mouth as Ouma said that, the boy looking at her with a serious expression, “What do you actually want to know?”

“Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shiori hurriedly responds, now paying attention to Ouma, lowering the page she was about to flip.

“You’re making this conversation longer than it has to be, and you’re willing to lie just for that,” Ouma nonchalantly responds, shrugging as he took another sip of tea, “Now get to the point, please.”

Shiori stares at him before she sighs, closing her book, “You always were the better liar, weren’t you?”

Ouma laughs, “The biggest one of them all.”

Shiori looks away, takes a deep breath, and shows the book’s cover. Ouma raises his eyebrow at it.

There on the cover of the surprisingly thick book were the words Hanahaki: A Study’ in bold text, the cover having a little flower drawn in the corner, “I found a way, Ouma-kun.”

Ouma feels like he knows just what Shiori wants, but he played dumb, eyebrow still raised, “A way to what?”

Shirori opens the book again, looks at the table of contents, then begins to flip the pages. She continues to flip each page until she reaches the middle part of the book. She points at one of the paragraphs and begins to read aloud.

“Page three hundred eighteen says, ‘According to Doctor Hanako, her patient, Toba, was able to go through a successful surgery which completely removed the flowers and such, thus curing her from the disease.’” Shiori leans forward, book in hand, a smile on her face, “Surgery, Ouma-kun. We can use it. I don’t know where we can find the money, but if it-”

“Have you read anything after that?” Ouma suddenly asks, surprising Shiori.

“E-er, no.” She responds.

Ouma lowers the tea cup in his hand, “Page three hundred twenty-five, paragraph five, ‘Though the surgery was successful, as stated by the information given to the researchers who wrote this article, it should be important to remember that the patient loses all feelings for the person they had previously fallen in love with.’”

Shiori pales, realizing that she wasn’t the only to read this book, “But…! If it works, you’ll be alright, Ouma-kun. You’ll live.”

Ouma seems to hesitate, but he shakes his head. To choose to lose your feelings for someone who you cherished, who you cared about, who you learned to love...that was a horrible concept in itself.

“Ouma-kun, please…” Shiori begged, placing the book beside her and reaching over to hold Ouma’s hand, squeezing it, “We need our leader...our friend...our _family_ …”

Ouma sadly smiles at Shiori, reaching over to hug her and then letting go. He whispered, “I _can’t_ , Shiori-chan. I can’t.”

Shiori gives him one last look before she finally lowers her head, smiling bitterly, “...I know.”

They take a sip of tea together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma tries to walk back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst found dead in Miami

_\--2 Weeks Left--_

 

Ouma tries to walk back home.

He can feel the even worse effects of the disease finally getting the best of him, his lungs constricting from the vines that forcefully wrapped itself around it, the flowers already accumulating in his chest.

He wonders if he can count the amount of time he had left on his bloody hands, the same hands that had held those golden flowers in front of the very person responsible for them.

He could barely see the road before him and he wondered if he was even close to his current destination.

 _‘Ha. Probably not.’_ He barely hears himself laugh.

He wished he could have ran away faster. Get away from Saihara faster. At least, fast enough for Saihara to never discover the truth.

Saihara. Saihara found out.

They were just having a conversation since the school day had already ended, their steps echoing across the empty hallways of the school.

They talked about anything they could think of like the upcoming school events they were interested in, their favorite foods, and anything else like that.

It felt...nice. Peaceful. It felt like something worth remembering.

As Ouma took a sip of Panta, he heard Saihara mutter his name out.

He stopped drinking and turned to face Saihara, a small “Mhm?” leaving him.

“I...need help.” Saihara said, suddenly looking a little nervous, a blush on his face.

“Well, what is it?” Ouma asked, his free hand motioning Saihara to say what was on his mind.

“I...you see... it’s just…” Saihara stutters out, “It’s about...this person I may or may not like.”

Ouma takes a deep breath, hiding it by continuing to drink the sugary beverage in his hand.

Of course. Of course Saihara would fall in love. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Why did he even bother thinking he had a chance?

Ouma’s grip on the can tightens just a little.

He continues to smile though, tilting his head, forcing himself to sound just as teasing as he usually was, “Really? Who is it?”

Saihara doesn’t answer the question.

 _‘Ah, he doesn’t want to tell me who exactly, huh?’_ Ouma shrugs, “Alright then, what do you even need help with? I’m pretty sure a liar can’t help you in the love department.”

“I guess so, but you’re the only one who can listen to me right now. Akamatsu-san and the others are too busy. And…” Saihara looks at him straight in the eyes,”I trust you, Ouma-kun.”

Ouma’s eyes widen, surprised, but he plays it off, laughing quietly, “Trusting a liar now, hm? Well, it can’t be helped. People like you would probably trust anyone.”

 _‘At least Saihara-chan can trust people.’_ Ouma says, _‘You’d probably die before you bother trusting anyone else apart from your family.’_

Ouma ignores the last thought, “So, what do you need help with, anyway? Don’t just say that and leave me hanging!”

Saihara looked a little surprised but relieved that Ouma would listen to him, “It’s just...I don’t know how to talk to them, Ouma-kun. One moment I think they finally make sense to me, but the next they become so frustrating that I want to actually scream.”

Saihara sighs, “But...I want to understand them. I want to know who they really are. I want to know why they do the things they do. And maybe, just maybe, I do...and I feel like if I can fully understand them, then I’ll be able to tell them some things I’m so scared of telling them with as much sincerity as possible.I mean, I sincerely like them, Ouma-kun, but I want them to know that I’m not lying...that I’m telling them the full truth, no more and no less…”

Woah. That’s a lot to take in. Ouma takes another sip from his drink, “I see. As far as I can tell, it’s going to be really diffucult to get through this mystery person. But who knows, if you talk to them, maybe they’ll actually open up to you. That is, if you can earn their trust.”

“That’s why its so diffucult to talk them!” Saihara says, raising his hands up in frustration, “They keep distancing themself from everyone they see as if we’re some sort of plague and they never tell us how they really feel and they always have this smile that says ‘everything is absolutely fine’ even if it isnt and its so-”

Saihara lowers his hands, “Tiring.”

Ouma wasn’t sure how to feel about what Saihara had said. This was the first time he had seen Saihara look so upset about something that was bothering him. He wondered if he knew this person.

“What are you gonna do about it then?” Ouma asks, tapping his can on a wall, “It is gonna take a lot of effort to deal with someone like that. Even more, if they're so annoying, why do you like them so much?”

Saihara seems dumbfounded by Ouma’s question. He stops walking and taps his chin, giving a response a moment later, “It’s because of the times when they let us know the truth.”

“Eh?” Now it’s Ouma’s turn to feel dumbfounded.

“It’s the times when they let us in. It’s a really rare event, but whenever I see just how kind this person can be, how amazing they are, how fun it is to be with them...I learned to enjoy those times I had with them.” Saihara says slowly and gently grips his uniform, “But I’m scared, Ouma-kun.”

“Scared?”

“I’m scared, scared that they won’t like me back or they’ll make up some excuse or lie.” Saihara says, letting go of his uniform and letting his hands dangle on his sides, “What if they hate me?”

“Hate? You?”

 _‘What is it with these one or two word responses?!’_ He yells at himself, for once unable to figure out how to help this boy in front of him.

This person must have been so important to Saihara. Ouma wanted to feel jealous, but he was too busy trying to beat down the sadness he was feeling from this whole experience.

Saihara continues talking, “...I don’t know how to feel anymore. I just wish I could understand them more.”

Ouma tries to shrug, but his movements looked stiff. He leaned on the wall, placing the can beside him as he slid down. Saihara stared at him until Ouma patted the place before him. Saihara sits down beside him, hands holding his legs.

Ouma offers Saihara some of his Panta. Saihara sadly smiles, mutters something that sounded like a “Thank you.” and takes a few gulps. He grimaces right after, “This tastes bad.”

Ouma shrugs as the can is returned to him, raising it to his lips and taking a few more sips before placing it beside him, “Hm, this seems like a mystery not even the detective can figure out.”

Saihara sighs, but nods. Ouma continues speaking, “The only thing it seems you can do now is to talk to this mystery person, see if you can spot the difference between truth and lie. Then, when the time is right, drop the truth on them full force. Maybe they’ll be willing to listen to you now, seeing as this person seems to be quite the liar.”

As far as Ouma could tell, this person Saihara talked about seemed to remind him of, well, himself. But, as long as those flowers are still killing him, then he could drop that hope into the drain or kick it into the curb.

Either way, the clock was ticking.

“...I guess so.” Saihara says, smiling at Ouma, “Thank you for listening.”

Ouma shrugs, hands on his back, but smiles back, “Eh, sure.”

Maybe he wasn’t going to live past high school, maybe no one will like him as much. And maybe he’d never get a future where Saihara was with him, hand in hand, smiling like nothing matters, and walking toward a better tomorrow…

But, at least, this moment...gave him a small taste of what could have been. He felt a little upset at the thought, that irritation bubbling up in his throat, but he doesn’t bother showing that, choosing to take another sip of Panta-

Ouma starts to cough.

His eyes widen as he continues coughing, each one getting worse and worse.

“O-Ouma-kun?!” Saihara says in shock, hurriedly patting Ouma’s back, “What’s wrong?!”

Ouma tries to stop his coughing, the taste of bile already in his tongue as he desperately tried to keep it all in and never let it out. His eyes widened, realizing that the last person he hoped would see him like this was right in front of him.

“Sai...Saihara… _chan-”_ He struggles to say, but he continues to cough, and then-

Blood falls onto the ground.

Saihara staggers back, standing up as he gaped at the sight of blood, “Ouma-kun, what-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

Ouma coughs one more time and the flowers come out, stained with his own blood and hurting his scratched throat. He feels tears pricking the tip of his eyes, threatening to fall out as the pain became unbearable. The blood was everywhere, staining his own scarf, the school’s clean floor, Saihara’s shoes-

_Saihara._

He tries to look up only to see Saihara’s horror filled face, hands on his mouth as he continued to watch Ouma.

He looks back down. Ouma never wants to see that expression again. _Never._

Finally, the pain stops and the flowers stop coming.

He can tell that the disease had gotten worse, the pain he felt in his lungs reaching his arms and legs and everywhere else.

He can barely pick himself up without falling back down again.

_How the hell is supposed to get out of this?!_

“O...Ouma-kun-”

Ouma tries his best to crack a smile, looking back up, “What’s wrong, Saihara-chan?” He says in a low voice, struggling to stand up and leaning on the wall as nonchalantly as possible.

“What’s wrong?!” Saihara nearly yells, “Ouma-kun, you’re-”

“I’m _fine.”_  He says, keeping his shaky grin and ignoring the fact that his plan was bound to fail since the start.

“Absolutely not.” Saihara says in an angry tone. He tries to calm down, slowly forcing Ouma to sit down again, “Stay here. I’ll get help...somehow.”

“Okie dokie!” Ouma says with his faked smile, giving Saihara a thumbs up.

Saihara runs as fast as he can. Once he’s gone, Ouma finally stops grinning, groaning in anger. Of course the last person he wants to know about this is the first to find out about it. Luck wasn’t exactly his best friend, after all.

He stays like that for a few minutes, wondering about what he should do. He doubts Saihara would let him off the hook so easily and he definitely did not want help. Not if he had a say in it.

Besides, who would care anyway? Toujou? Iruma? Saihara? Yeah, sure. Seems legit.

Ouma commends himself for still being able to think sarcastically even with this whole thing going on.

He continues to list of a bunch of people who wouldn’t give two fucks about him if he died (“Harukawa-chan, Momota-chan, Akamatsu-chan, Yonaga-”) and begins wondering what he should do before he dies, seeing as he had barely anytime left.

“Let’s see…” He says to himself, “Eat a whole cake, drink a whole liter of Panta, tell Momota-chan the Earth is flat and piss him off, play that one prank I’ve been meaning to do with D.I.C.E, and maybe-”

_D.I.C.E._

Ouma’s eyes widen.

His own family. He forgot about his own family. He was going to die soon and his family wouldn’t even know until it was far too late-

Ouma nearly collapses again as he forces himself to stand up.

He leans on the wall, slowly walking out of the school and into the afternoon light of day.

It was going to be a while before he can get to his house.

Here he was now, still far away from his house, his eyes sunken as he continued to drag himself over there, vision blurry.

Was he really going to die like this? Alone? Forgotten by everyone? A supreme leader finally dying after making far too many mistakes. He deserved his, didn’t he?

But he didn’t care if that was true or not. He wanted to see his family, the people that loved him an in turn taught him how to love, _One. More. Time._

He feels his legs give out under him.

He curls into a ball as more flowers come out his throat, hacking as more and more blood left his system and dyed the grey road crimson.

“Sh…” He whispers, “Shiori-chan...Hiro-chan...Everyone…”

He can feel tears once more and this time he lets them go, each one leaving tracks on his pale face. He lets a sob out.

And then, he begins screaming, “SHIORI-CHAN! HIRO-CHAN! HANAYO-CHAN! EVERYONE! I’M SORRY! I’M SO FUCKING _SORRY-”_

He continues yelling that out loud as if it were some sort of chant, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat that only brought more tears to his eyes.

He yells and yells and yells and yells, ignoring the fact that other people could hear him because _fuck_ he was going to die and he didn’t give a _shit_ if someone heard him.

He keeps yelling even as he squeezes his eyes shut and he feels like he’s falling down from a high place, even as he feels like he’s falling down a dark hole, even as he sees that horrified expression on Saihara’s face aimed at him over and over and over again-

He keeps yelling, even as he sees his vision darken.

Falling. He was falling. He was falling down that rabbit hole and no one was there to save him. Every hand that was extended to him was gone. Every chance he had to tell Saihara how much he loved him was gone. Everything...everything was _gone._

And it was _All. His. Fault._

He stops yelling, eyes barely open even when he forces them to stay open.

He was going to die. He expected to die. He knew he was going to die. He could have done something about it, but he didn’t.

Ha, and _he_ was ‘smart one’ in his family.

He closes his eyes, welcoming the darkness surrounding him, smothering him, hugging him when-

“...ma-kun!” He hears a familiar voice says, feeling as if someone was shaking him.

“Ou...hell...you…” He hears another familiar voice say.

“Shiori-san we….Ouma-kun is….help him _now…”_

He hears static between each word uttered. It felt as if something was doing its best to hide what these two voices were saying and he felt his blood _boil._

He feels himself be picked up by a pair of arms, “Ouma-kun, please….have to stay awake...not your time yet…”

Ouma only smiles one last time, and closes his eyes once more.

If he payed attention just a little more, he could have heard the sound of nine voices screaming in unison and the sound of footsteps picking up speed.

 

_\--1 Week Left--_

Ouma doesn't go to class.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There wasn’t much Saihara could do, seeing as it was twelve a.m. on a school day. Really, all he can do now is go to his room and take a good, somewhat long, amount of slee-
> 
> He bumps into someone.
> 
> He guessed having a late night encounter with someone in the halls is something he can do. He looks up to see-
> 
> Ouma?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hghhghgh IM SO SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IT A MONTH ASLKFJ
> 
> I haven't had much time to actually write for the fic once I posted Chapter 4 since my school started churning out more and more projects and my exams were in the horizon. 
> 
> I spent the whole yesterday just to finish this lmao
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!!!

_\--5 Weeks left--_

Saihara wakes up from a nightmare.

He jolts up from bed, clammy and shaky, and already forgetting what happened in the nightmare anyway. The only thing he can remember is the sound of someone screaming, the sound mixing with rushed whispers and desperate pleas for someone to stay before everything else becomes nothing but a foggy and distant memory.

He turns to the side to face his nightstand, opening his lamp and letting the warm, orange light spill across the whole room, the light bringing him some sense of comfort as he calmed down. He looks around the room one more time before groaning, letting himself fall onto the bed and putting his hand on his face.

 _‘Just a nightmare. It’s just a nightmare.’’_ He thinks to himself, closing and opening his fists and taking deep and long breathes. It was rare for him to actually have any nightmares and even then they weren’t as terrifying as the one he just had, even if he could barely recall what happened.

He lays there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of his alarm clock making small but noticeable ticking noises that filled his silent room. His hands were on top of the blanket that reached until his chest, both hands going up and down as he continued to take deep and long breathes.

Shrugging he reaches for the button that would close his lamp so he could go back to sle-

His phone rings.

His phone lets out a loud and annoying song, a ringtone Ouma himself had set for his phone on one of the occasions Saihara was able to hang out with him (“So you actually answer the phone once you get frustrated with the noise instead of your ‘peaceful’ piano music.) and squinted at the bright screen of his phone.

 _‘Momota Kaito’_ It read in big bold letters, the picture of the man himself there, fingers in a peace sign as Harukawa and Saihara gazed at the stars in the background. He fondly smiled at that memory, remembering how Momota had woken him up at a random time and asked him to go check out the stars with him with Harukawa in tow, something about it being the best time to look at the stars and maybe even name a few constellations from that place they went to. Funny enough, Momota followed his pattern once more, waking him up at a random time for who knows what.

He presses the answer button and puts his phone to his ear, voice slightly slurred, “What is it, Momota-kun?”

“Hey, sidekick! Where are you?” Momota’s booming voice says from his phone.

“Oh, I’m at my dorm. Is something wrong?” Saihara said, already laying down again to prepare to go to sleep once he and Momota finish this conversation they were having.

“Huh?! Why?!” Momota nearly yelled through the phone and Saihara pulled the phone away from his ear.

“Well, it’s pretty late, so I don’t see a problem with being at bed this late. What’s wrong, Momota-kun? Did I miss something?” Saihara asked, confused.

“It’s Wednesday! You know, training time?”

Oh.

Oh _yeah._

“Oh! I’ll be there soon. Sorry, Momota-kun.” Saihara hurriedly says, standing up from bed before ending the phone call.

After a lot of talking, he, along with Harukawa and Momota, agreed to get together and train to get stronger, and maybe have a chat once they’re all done. It was something Saihara had been somewhat hesitant to do, especially since he wasn’t a close to Harukawa as he was now, but eventually he was able to befriend her, and the trio had become quite close as time passed.

So the thought of actually forgetting that they were going to do something so important today made him immediately hop out of bed, change clothes, and run all the way to the back of the school, the one place he and Harukawa had found to be open even at night time.

Once he opened the doors to the back, he let out a breathe, panting as he leaned on the open door. He looked around the garden the school had, the serene atmosphere bringing him a sense of calm. He took one last breath of air before walking over to the usual spot he and the others had agreed to meet to, his steps making a small _tap_ noise on the stone pathway.

The moon was fully out, illuminating his path and casting shadows to the things beyond the school. Ouma would jokingly tell the others that there were ghosts if they bothered going past the school borders, running to the border when Momota seemed visibly shaken by that thought and only stopping once Momota looks close to screaming out for him to come back.

Good times, Saihara thinks.

He sees Momota and Harukawa eventually, Momota happily waving him over as Harukawa continued doing push ups at a remarkable speed, too focused on what she was doing to notice the detective.

“There you are! Geez, took you long enough, dude.” Momota said, patting Saihara’s back.

“Sorry, Momota-kun. I’m ready for whatever we’re going to do now.” Saihara said, smiling at his friend.

“Cool, cool. I’ll be right back though. I think I forgot to lock my door, and who knows what kind of crazy shit’s gonna happen if I don’t take care of that soon.” Momota said quickly and with that, he vanished, off to probably find whatever he needed or something along those lines.

The assassin finally took notice of Saihara once, finally stopping and standing up, a subtle smile on her face, “There you are, Saihara. I was beginning to wonder where you went.”

Saihara laughed awkwardly, hand on his neck, “Sorry. I forgot that it was Wednesday today. It must have slipped past my mind.”

Harukawa blinked once, twice, then slightly tilted her head to the side, “Is there anything on your mind right now, Saihara?”

“I-it’s nothing, really.” Saihara said, trying to wave it off.

Harukawa didn’t look convinced.

Saihara sighed, “Well, it’s about Ouma-kun…” Saihara paused when he noticed Harukawa slightly angry expression at the mention of the Supreme Leader.

“You have no reason to worry about someone like him.” Harukawa says coldly, “He’s nothing but a troublemaker.” She pauses for a moment before continuing, “Did he do something?”

“O-oh! It’s nothing like that at all!” Saihara hurriedly said, waving both his hands, “It’s just...he’s been acting weird lately.”

“Oh?” Harukawa said, realizing that she wasn’t going to get the topic of the Supreme Leader out the window, “How so?”

“Well…” Saihara said, sitting down on the ground, Harukawa following his lead, “He’s been a little more distant and he looks a little more...pale, I think? He hasn’t been doing any pranks too, almost like he’s too tired to even bother doing much, and seeing as he’s the most...active, it’s somewhat concerning. Oh, and he hasn’t really been teasing anyone as much, I haven’t even heard him call Kiibo-kun ‘Kiiboy’ in a while. I think even Kiibo has noticed, but he looks more concerned than glad Ouma-kun doesn’t call him that anymore.”

“Hm.” Harukawa mutters, seeming to try and analyze the situation, “As far as I can see, he probably is just tired. Why he’s tired, I wouldn’t know and I suppose the switch in the way he acts is something to call some concern for. But again, I find it best that we don’t concern ourselves with someone like him.”

Saihara took a moment to think about it, deep in thought. To be honest, he didn’t know exactly what he should feel about Ouma, a self proclaimed liar, and a good liar at that. The boy always gave him a hard time, happily grabbing the truth and nearly giving it to him right before he decides to throw it into a deep well filled with lies, forcing everyone to dig deep down until they can find the cold and full truth of the matter. And even past that, Ouma had always been a troublemaker, bringing headaches to those around him, making him a well known but well disliked person of the class.

And yet, even with that, Saihara had learned to push past all of that. He dug the deepest down that well and found at least some untouched part of the truth within Ouma’s words and actions. Sometimes he would be harsh with what he said or do, but Saihara realized that even with those harsh words and actions, behind it would be what he could see would be something that seemed to register as concern for the person he was talking to. All this together made it a strange adventure when someone tried to hang out with him, but it was fun nonetheless.

It was something that was understandably difficult to notice when it comes to someone as puzzling and mysterious as Ouma, and yet Saihara was lucky enough to find it. Good for him, he supposed.

“Hey, are you still here?” Harukawa said, snapping her fingers in front of his face and pulling him out of his thoughts, “Are you good?”

“Ah, sorry, Harukawa-san.” Saihara said, “I’m alright. Honest.”

“Well you better be. Momota’s back and training starts now.” Harukawa said, motioning over to Momota calling them as he walked over to them.

“I guess it’s time then.” Saihara laughs and stands up, readying for another night of training with his friends.

* * *

Saihara lets out a loud yawn, the sound echoing across the silent school halls.

Training had just ended a few minutes ago, the three friends agreeing to do this again next week before they waved goodbye to each other, Harukawa going over to the girl’s dorm and Momota going opposite of where Saihara is going since their dorms were surprisingly far away from each other.

There wasn’t much Saihara could do, seeing as it was twelve a.m. on a school day. Really, all he can do now is go to his room and take a good, somewhat long, amount of slee-

He bumps into someone.

He guessed having a late night encounter with someone in the halls is _something_ he can do. He looks up to see-

Ouma?

He hears Ouma let out a groan before Ouma turns to look at him, a smile on his face, “Heeey, Saihara-chan! What are you doing at a time like this? They say ghosts lurk around at times like this, after all!”

Saihara can’t help but laugh at that remark, nervously scratching his neck before responding, “You should say that to Momota-kun,” He says, smiling embarrassingly before continuing in a joking manner, “Maybe he’ll tone down on the training we have. Maybe even change the time we do it, at least.”

“Maybe I will, who knows?” Ouma shrugs, a mischievous smile on his face, “It’ll be a good scare for that dumb astronaut.”

Before Ouma can leave, Saihara notices the gigantic amount of cleaning supplies Ouma has bringing with him, but before Saihara could comment on it, Ouma was already walking past him, “Well, I’ll be going then! See y-”

Saihara decides now is the time to actually say something before he lets Ouma get away from him without a single word. And besides, he was still worried about Ouma, so now seemed to be the perfect chance to do something, “Ouma-kun, what are you doing with all that stuff?”

Ouma’s smile looks like it had thinned.

He shrugs at Saihara, turning back to look at him, “Hm, I decided to clean my room!”

“At twelve in the morning when we have classes in a few hours?” Saihara says, eyebrow raised. So he seemed somewhat skeptical of that idea, ignoring the fact that he himself might do that if he really did feel like it was needed, but that’s not the point right now.

“You’re training at twelve in the morning when we have classes in a few hours, Saihara-chan?” Ouma says back, his smile turning into a frown, expression looking disappointed, “And I thought Saihara-chan was more responsible!” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head with an amused expression, “I don’t know what to believe in anymore.”

Saihara feels like he should just roll his eyes amusingly, but he doesn’t, choosing to look worried instead. There had to be something wrong, right? Or was that just him being too worried about everything? “Ouma-kun...is something wrong?” He wants Ouma to tell him the truth, he really did, and maybe, just maybe, he could help Ouma.

But Saihara knows that it would be long before he can do anything like that, especially if he was too tired at the moment.

“Noooope!” Ouma says, leaning forward as he did so.

Welp. Guess he can’t do much in that department right now. Now, for another thing that had been bothering him since the start.

“...Your scarf.” Saihara mutters, hand reaching for a cap that was no longer there before putting it back down. Akamatsu had managed to help him build enough courage to no longer wear that cap and use it in this kinds of situations where he felt somewhat nervous about something, but the habit of reaching for his cap to tip it down so he could avoid the prying eyes of others was still there.

“Hm, what’s that, Saihara-chan?”

Oh boy. Ouma was _really_ giving him a hard time now.

“Where’s your scarf?” Saihara asks a little louder, hands gesturing to his own neck and then at Ouma’s.

“Ah, you noticed!” Ouma says, almost touching his exposed neck before hurriedly pulling his hand back, “Well, I was going to...get a new one!” He says a bit too late, almost as if he had to make a reason up just right now, which to Saihara seemed to be the case right now.

“But...don’t you have spares in your room? You even told me so before.” Saihara asked, remembering one of the many and random conversations he had with Ouma which Saihara was somewhat embarrassed to completely remember in semi-full detail.

He was only worried, really, because the last time Ouma didn’t have a scarf on his neck, it was because Ouma had fallen a couple floors down when the floor broke under him, the piece of fabric wrapped around his bleeding head as Saihara, along with Amami and Kiibo, called for help as Saihara struggled to carry an unconscious Ouma.

It was something that scared him to this day, though he was afraid to admit that to others, especially to Ouma, to see someone he cared about hurt. Sure, Ouma was saying that he was completely fine, a smile on his face with bandages wrapped around his head, but Saihara could still see that he looked so tired, maybe even a little afraid that he could have died.

Saihara could still see the huge gash that incident left, though it was hidden well behind all that messy hair Ouma had. He could see it whenever Ouma looked pissed off and dragged his hand up his hair to pull his bangs and stray hair up, the scar showing itself. Other times he would catch Ouma reaching up to touch it, smile seeming to go down just a bit before he went back to what he was doing.

It was something Saihara and some of his classmates noticed, but no one bothered asking him about it, besides Toujou, Akamatsu, and Saihara himself who tried and was only waved off and told it was alright, and no one bothered mentioning it again.

“I’m going to get an even better one!” Ouma says, smile still present on his face, making Saihara try to shrug that memory off and focus on what was happening right now.

“I...okay…” Saihara says, realizing that he won’t get much out of Ouma and deciding to try and change the subject, “Do you need help to carry all of...this at least?” He asks, hands gesturing at everything Ouma is carrying.

“Nope! I can carry this aaaaall alone. A supreme leader has to have some muscle, doesn’t he?”

Saihara doesn’t really believe him, but he says nothing about it, hearing something in Ouma’s voice that seemed to say ‘Not now.’ and as someone who had often tried to give that signal to others so that they could give him some space, Saihara decided that he should do the same.

Saihara sighs, “Well, if you say so, I guess,” Saihara walks the other way, back to his dorm across the hallway, “See you at class, then, Ouma-kun.”

“See ya later, Saihara-chan!” He says, waving at the detective.

Just like that, Saihara lost another opportunity to express his concern to the mysterious boy, and all he can really hope now is that he still has enough time to find the root of all his worry.

He enters his room and finds the light switch, closing the door as light filled the dark room. He changed back to his pajamas and, closing the lights once more before laying down in bed, stared up at the ceiling, one hand on his head.

Today was really a tiring day, what with all that training at night and all the work for school he had needed to accomplish. And then there was Ouma just a moment ago, smile on his face as he spoke to Saihara. Did Ouma always look that pale? What if he needed his help? What if he was hurt again and no one could help him-

No. He’s just overreacting, right? Ouma always did tell him that he seemed to worry too much about everything and that he should try and calm down a little and try to enjoy himself before he gives himself a headache and a reason to cry.

Now that he thought about it, Ouma did seem to be concerned about him back then too. Saihara was grateful for that. The conversations they had did tend to be comforting now and then, and it helped Saihara learn just more about Ouma Kokichi and just who he really was.

He’ll find the answer to who Ouma was one day, but for now, he needed rest, and he was going to get it.

With a conversation Saihara found as comforting, Ouma happily smiling at him as he tried to teach Saihara how to use a slingshot before accidentally hitting a window, Saihara fell asleep, a small smile on his face at the memory he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. That's it for now. Hope your not angery that it's not in Ouma's POV and yall still dont know if he lives or not.
> 
> Who knows? this could actually be a series because its about Saihara coping with Ouma's death, or you know, it could actually be because Ouma's alive and well and all that good shit.
> 
> Either way, hope you enjyoed this chapter! Stay tuned for the next chapter that'll come out only god himself knows when!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now there he was, nervously holding a bento full of possibly bad tasting food, staring at Ouma who he had seen walking over to a corner, definitely not eating. It takes some, if not all, his courage to hurriedly walk over to Ouma, raise the bento up a little higher, and try and gently place it on the table.
> 
> Thud. The sound of the bento slamming onto the table rings around the closed area. Saihara wants to slam the bento on his face.
> 
> Ouma turns to look at the bento in surprise, looking back at Saihara, then at the bento, and then back at Saihara. He turns to look at Saihara, a still surprised expression on his face before he says, “What.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dsfalkj I am SO sorry I haven't posted for a MONTH
> 
> I've been thinking about making another fic for Oumasai too, so I spent time making an outline for that instead of writing this chapter, so sorry about that. Also, writer's block rip
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter though! I'll try to get the next one out ASAP.

_\--4 Weeks Left--_

 

Saihara clutches an open bento tightly in his hands.

It wasn’t for him, his own bento in a small lunch box he had with him, it was for, of course, Ouma. He had noticed how Ouma had barely eaten in the days that he sees him, either talking to others or messing with them rather than actually eating.

Whenever someone tried to comment about it, Ouma would try to wave it off, shrugging with an excuse Saihara was suspicious he made on the spot, a huge grin on his face as he placed both hands behind him before walking away without a word. He always got away with it and Saihara wasn’t very surprised, really. Ouma was a liar after all, and a good one too.

So after going to Akamatsu for advice, he had tried to make food for Ouma. He was sure it wasn’t the best, seeing as he had probably burnt some of the food, but he hoped that Ouma could at least ignore that or not notice it all.

Now there he was, nervously holding a bento full of possibly bad tasting food, staring at Ouma who he had seen walking over to a corner, definitely _not_ eating. It takes some, if not all, his courage to hurriedly walk over to Ouma, raise the bento up a little higher, and try and gently place it on the table.

 _Thud._ The sound of the bento slamming onto the table rings around the closed area. Saihara wants to slam the bento on his face.

Ouma turns to look at the bento in surprise, looking back at Saihara, then at the bento, and then back at Saihara. He turns to look at Saihara, a still surprised expression on his face before he says, “What.”

Saihara’s still shocked by how he had slammed the bento, but he knows he needs to say something before the situation feel any more awkward than it already is. He blushes a bit out of embarrassment, “W-well,” He starts, already sure he’s failing Step One of talking to people, “I h-haven’t seen you eat pretty much anything for days and I got a little worried and I just-” Okay. Talking too fast. That’s fine- _it’s NOT fine-_

Saihara sighs and places his hand on his face, internally groaning at how quick he was to panic. He really wished he still had his cap on, “I tried to make something for you, but I’m not sure if its good or not.”

He nervously watched Ouma look at the food inside the bento, seemingly analyzing what was inside it. He seemed hesitant to even try it. Did it really look that bad…?

He’s about to tell Ouma to just take his bento since the person who made it is ten times better at it than him, but Ouma picks up his metal chopsticks, picks a piece of beef, shoves it into his mouth, and starts chewing slowly.

He watched Ouma chew, nervous as he feared what kind of reaction would come from the boy. Would he tease him and refuse to eat it? He hoped not. If Ouma hasn’t eaten in a while, then it’ll haunt Saihara out of concern for his classmate.

“...how is it?” He asks hesitantly, already accepting an outcome of failure.

“Hmmmm…” Ouma mutters, eyes closing for a second as he swallowed it, “It’s...okay.”

“...you hesitated.” Saihara says, now even more concerned that Ouma might not like it at all.

“Do you want me to take it back?”

“N-no! I was-” Saihara sighs, finally deciding to sit down beside Ouma, opening his own bento before using his own set of chopsticks to pick some food up and put it into his mouth, “I just want to know how you really feel this time.”

Saihara could have sworn he saw Ouma blush, but he couldn’t tell as Ouma had rubbed his face at the same time, “Well, it’s up to you to figure out if I’m lying or not!” Ouma says, Saihara already expecting that response from Ouma.

Saihara is surprised though when Ouma suddenly leans forward, whispering, “I’ll give you a hint: I’m telling the opposite of a lie.”

Saihara doesn’t know why, but he slumps out of relief, eyes closing as he placed another piece of meat into his mouth. Sure, Ouma gave him the actual answer, not a hint, but Saihara supposed that that was something he could thank Ouma for.

Well, if he’s being honest that is.

He and Ouma don’t say anything as they continued to eat their respective bento, Saihara trying to enjoy the quiet. He wasn’t exactly the greatest in conversations, but he knew he should ask Ouma if something was wrong. He was sure those cleaning supplies from last week for something even worse, but of course he couldn’t just assume the worst of it. So why not ask the man himself?

But, how does he even _start_ the conversation? _“Oh, Ouma-kun, I just remembered that thing last week with the cleaning supplies and stuff and I’m pretty sure you were lying to me! What’s up with that?”_ Yeah. Ha ha. No. There was no way he was going to start a conversation like that.

Before he could think of what to say, Ouma suddenly says, “Well, Saihara-chan, is there anything else you need?”

“Um…” Okay. This is it. His chance to ask Ouma anything. Maybe he’ll lie or maybe he’ll actually tell the truth for once. Saihara wouldn’t know, but he was grateful he at least got a moment to speak to Ouma since no matter how annoying others saw him, Saihara honestly saw him as someone he could actually have fun with, and he appreciated Ouma for that.

Okay. Just, ask him the question and get over with it

“Oh! Momota-kun has been wanting me to try and-”

…

…

…

... _God fucking damnit._ He missed his chance. _Again._ _  
_

Saihara starts talking about a project they all had to finish next week, a project which could have been done individually or with a group. Ouma had picked to be alone, saying that he worked better alone and sure enough, he had finished it and was waiting for the day they had to pass it. Saihara only knew that because Ouma had brought it to school earlier but learned that the teacher wanted it to be passed all at the same time just so that they don’t lose any of the projects and to make grading easier for them.

Saihara felt awkward as he realized that his voice would raise and lower at some points, hands making random gestures as he spoke. He tried to avoid doing all of this, but Ouma told him it was alright once, his other classmates surprisingly agreeing with Ouma, something that made Saihara relieved.

He feels like he’s gone for too long and tries to stop at a point he felt like could conclude the story, blushing as he felt like he has spoken for too long, “U-uh, so what should I do?”

“Well...” Ouma says, shoving another piece of beef into his mouth, seemingly deep in thought, “You could just give him some sort of game plan for it.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Give him a strategy, then let him do the work he has to do!”

“Ah, I see. That could work,” Saihara says, smiling as he looked at Ouma, grateful to have someone he was able to talk to and get at least some help from, “Thank you, Ouma-kun.”

Ouma hums, satisfied as he placed his bento down, “No problem, Saihara-chan!”

Saihara smiles as he chats with Ouma, realizing that though he mixed lies into what he says, he knew enough about Ouma and some of his lies to pick out what was possibly true and what was not. He tried to lie once, but gave up once Ouma managed to call him out on it, a sly smile on his face as he said so.

Saihara knew he had a lot of fun during these times. Maybe he couldn’t see the true Ouma completely, but he was glad that Ouma wasn’t _completely_ lying to him.

Saihara realized that there were days in which he was so glad and lucky to have Ouma around, days where Saihara couldn’t stand on his own and needed a hand to help him up and comfort him, a hug, a pat, and words that he knew were picked carefully, days where the stress got to him and Ouma would take him by the hand and cheer him up with a smile on his face, days where he could see Ouma’s smile wobble just a little, days where Ouma’s tears looked far more genuine than others perceived, days where Ouma himself needed comfort that Saihara did his best to provide. They were days both Ouma and Saihara silently agreed to never tell anyone about and he knew deep down Ouma appreciated it and so did Saihara.

Saihara sees Ouma’s smile become genuinely peaceful, a rare sight to see, and Saihara feels warmth inside of him, wishing that he could see that smile every day, especially if he could be the one to bring it out.

Saihara suddenly blushes at that thought, awkwardly smiling to himself. God, he would love to enjoy this moment and let it stay forever. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling, but it was a feeling he was content with.

He stops smiling when he realizes that one of the main reasons he was here was yet to be taken care of and he feels nervous as he starts to speak again.

“By the way, Ouma-kun…” He says, placing his bento down as well, gently this time so he doesn’t slam it down like the other bento, “There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something...important I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while...”

Saihara can tell Ouma knows just what he wanted to start talking about and he was sure that Ouma didn’t want to talk about it either, having most likely thought that Saihara would forget about it and never bring it up again. Saihara would love it too, but he knew he had to at least try and get an answer, for Ouma’s sake.

Ouma must have closed his eyes at some point because Saihara watches as he opens them midway, one eyebrow raised, a smile looking slightly strained on his face before he starts talking, “What is it?”

“I...” Saihara starts, pausing as he tried to find the right words and failing already, “It’s about...last week…”

Ouma seems to have expected this. His eyes open a little more, “What about it, Saihara-chan? Came to ask me about my cleaning techniques or something. If you need those, you should ask Toujou-chan! If your lucky, you could even ask an Ultimate Janitor!”

“N-no! That’s not what I wanted to talk about at all!” Saihara says. Shit, Ouma was trying to derail the conversation before he could even start it. If Saihara lets this continue on he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get another chance.

“It isn’t? Then maybe you wanna ask how I was strong enough to carry all that! Alright, I’ll tell you! So-”

“O-Ouma-kun-” He tries to start. One more chance. One _last_ chance.

“That’s not it either? Perhaps you want-”

 _“Ouma-kun,”_ Saihara says, finally snapping as he let his hand slam down on the table, surprising both him, Ouma, and everyone around them. Fuck, this was awkward, “Please. Stop that. M-maybe this isn’t important to you, but it is for me, at least,” Saihara places both hands on his pants, hands turning into fists and scratching the fabric, already feeling embarrassed for doing something like that, even if it did get Ouma to stop, “So please, let me finish.”

Ouma stops talking, noticing the sudden seriousness he can hear in Saihara’s voice, “Well, Saihara-chan?” He says, his expression stoic and his voice losing all playfulness in it, “What did you want to know?”

Saihara was relieved from Ouma’s decision to agree to listen to him, but he felt surprised at the same time from the sudden seriousness Ouma showed. He really didn’t think that would happen, but he was glad it did.

He takes a deep breath, ready to finally say what he needed to say, “Ouma-kun...what were you-”

They both jump at the sound of the bell, the obnoxious noise ringing across the halls.

Saihara knew he failed.

Ouma suddenly stood up from the table, placing his hands on the back of his head, smiling playfully as he turned around and away from Saihara, already taking a few steps out of the cafeteria.

“Welp, looks like I gotta go, Saihara-chan!” And there went his chance to speak to Ouma again.

“We’ll have this conversation later. “ No, they won’t know, and Saihara knew it wasn’t going to happen.

See you later, Saihara-chan!”

“W-wait!” Saihara yells, about to stop Ouma, a small sliver of hope that maybe he could still do it, but the boy is already gone, footsteps echoing farther and farther away from the cafeteria.

Saihara sighs for the hundredth time that day, and leaves the cafeteria, both bentos in hand.

Saihara realizes Ouma’s bento is still half full.

Great. Now he had something else to worry about too.

* * *

Saihara sits on his desk, head leaning on his hand as he waited for Ouma to get back to the classroom for the start of class. Ouma had already been gone for the second time the bell rang, already making Saihara concerned, though the rest of the class didn’t seem to mind, save for Akamatsu, who sat left of Saihara, and Amami, who sat right of Saihara.

“Hey, have you seen Ouma-kun, Saihara-kun?” Akamatsu asked, hands drumming on her desk as she waited for the boy to get back to class, “Last time I saw him, you were there with him at lunch.” The three were collectively staring at the empty chair near the front of the class, the boy nowhere to be seen.

“He left a bit after that, so I haven’t seen him since.” Saihara tells Akamatsu, sighing in defeat as he slumped down on his desk.

“Hey, why so upset?” Amami asks him, patting Saihara’s back with a smile. Saihara could tell that Amami was concerned though, seeing as Amami saw Ouma as a little brother he needs to take care of. Saihara could tell that Ouma saw Amami as a brother too, since he was seen hanging out with Amami much more than anyone else in the class.

“It’s just...I was going to try and talk to him about something that’s been worrying me about him, but he managed to get pass me,” A sigh, “I doubt I’d have another chance to talk to him.”

“Oh, don’t be so upset about it Saihara-kun,” Amami tells him, “Ouma-kun can be like that sometimes-” Akamatsu and Saihara’s expression deadpan at him, “-Eh, most of the time, but you shouldn’t worry too much about it. You do still have a lot of time to talk to him before the school year ends.”

“Yeah, what Amami-kun said.” Akamatsu said, patting Saihara’s back as well, “Just give it a bit of time. Ouma-kun will open up in no time!” Amami and Saihara deapan at her, “U-uh, in some time!”

Akamatsu sighs with an awkward smile, “It’ll be okay, Saihara-kun. If anyone can do it, you can!” Akamatsu tended to be worried about all her classmates, but Saihara supposed she knew this was something she thought Saihara could do.

“Thanks, Akamatsu-san, Amami-kun.” Saihara says, a small smile on his face as the two smiled at him.

A few minutes later, Saihara and the others turn to the sound of the door opening, Ouma popping out of it. They watch as he tells the teacher of his whereabouts, Saihara feeling like it was just a lie. He notices how much paler Ouma looks. Tired, too.

He says nothing though, because he knows that Ouma wouldn’t ever tell him, the gate between the two of them closing once more, opening at a time Saihara would never know when.

But he’ll keep waiting, for his sake and for Ouma’s.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Saihara-kun…” Akamatsu said, worried, “What’s wrong?”
> 
> Saihara’s first reaction is to say that nothing was wrong, but with the way he was acting, it was going to be pretty obvious he was lying. He should really take notes when Ouma lies...or not. Living a life without lying sounds much more fun and less painful. Less internal screaming too.
> 
> What a deal.
> 
> Saihara sighs, “It’s just...I’ve been worried about Ouma-kun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god i didn't update after one month again high five guys  
> Ha ha it's not like it's been...more than 2 weeks...ha  
> Also oh my god it's 4:20 am. b l a z e it, i think.
> 
> One more thing, thank you all so much for all the hits and kudos!!! I am so glad my fic is doing well!!
> 
> Anywayyyy, hope you enjoy this! I literally wrote like, 700 words a few days ago, then finished writing it today.
> 
> Send help pls

_ \--3 Weeks Left-- _ __  
  


If there was one thing Saihara really wanted right now, it was the sound of the bell ringing and signifying the end of the class he was having right now.

The teacher’s voice was monotone, sounding so uninterested in whatever they were teaching that even Saihara felt like giving up trying to listen to the lecture. No one could judge him, the three people in front of him were already asleep and both Amami and Akamatsu looked close to doing the same. Nonetheless, he continued to try and listen, probably being the only one trying anymore.

Minutes later, Saihara sighed and decided to rely on his textbook, noticing that everything the teacher said was basically a copy paste of what was in the book.

He looked around him and saw that even  _ more  _ people were asleep or not paying attention, tapping their notebooks or whispering to the people beside them. How did the teacher notice none of this? Who knows, maybe the teacher already did but decided to just keep going. Momota was one of those people, talking to whoever was beside him in a hushed tone. Saihara sighed. 

_ ‘And Momota-kun wonders why his grades aren’t as high as he wants them to be.’  _ Saihara thinks to himself. In fairness, he wasn’t paying attention anymore either, but at least his was just a rare occurrence.

Saihara turned to look at the front and noticed that Ouma wasn’t really paying attention anymore. Well, not paying attention more than usual, at least. He looked like he was staring at something far away, his hand gently touching his throat, and no matter how much Saihara tried to look at the direction Ouma was staring at, he couldn’t see anything. Saihara wondered what was wrong.

He’s about to formulate some sort of plan (Operation: Talk to Ouma and Succeed. Chance of success: 0.1%) when suddenly-

The school bell rings, a sigh of relief echoing across the whole classroom and possibly from the classroom behind them. The teacher that had been lecturing them seemed to share their sentiments as well.

It was Friday, after all, the end of the week, and everyone was dead tired from every single thing they had to deal with from the days prior until today.

He could have sworn he just heard someone’s head fall onto their desk behind him, the sound of the person beside them calling the person’s name and shaking them a few times.

“Well, class,” The teacher said, pushing their glasses up and pointing at the door, “You are free to go.”

A few minutes later, the teacher is already gone, and Saihara finds himself together with Momota and Akamatsu, the three walking together and into the school halls.

Saihara had planned to go to Ouma and walk with him, see if he can have a moment to chat with the boy, but he was already gone, which made Saihara feel somewhat disappointed. During the short times they were in each other’s companies, and even the times before that, Saihara felt something new, but he couldn’t quite place just what it was.

The feeling was...odd. It made Saihara experience so many mixed emotions when he was around Ouma. He cherished Ouma’s genuine and happy smiles so much more, he had butterflies in his stomach when he thought of him, a small blush on his face. He enjoyed spending time with Ouma even more than he was willing to admit and as annoying as everyone saw him to be, Saihara could only ever really find him to be endearing.

As the thoughts swirled around his head, Akamatsu had just finished saying something, Saihara only catching the last part.

“-and that’s why it wasn’t fair they decided to do that!” Akamatsu sighed, crossing her arms, “What do you think, Saihara-kun?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah.” Saihara said, trying to hide the fact that he didn’t know what Akamatsu was talking about. Why yes, he knew everything she just said a moment ago. Definitely.

Akamatsu noticed it immediately. Dammit.

“Saihara-kun…” Akamatsu said, worried, “What’s wrong?”

Saihara’s first reaction is to say that nothing was wrong, but with the way he was acting, it was going to be pretty obvious he was lying. He should really take notes when Ouma lies...or not. Living a life without lying sounds much more fun and less painful. Less internal screaming too.

What a deal.

Saihara sighs, “It’s just...I’ve been worried about Ouma-kun.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Akamatsu said, Momota choosing to remain silent for the moment. On the bright side, that meant he didn’t have to feel as nervous as talking about it with only one person asking instead of two.

So he spills it. He tells Akamatsu about how he’s noticed that lately, Ouma has been looking more pale and seemed to decline on doing his usual antics. He still had his mischievous personality on his belt, but he seemed to take a seat on pulling pranks or lying or just talking in general. Saihara could see how tired he seemed to act, almost like the thought of doing anything worthwhile seemed to have just been shoved out of his thoughts completely.

In short, Ouma wasn’t being...Ouma, a weird thing to say, yes, but it was something Saihara saw as a truth.

Once he finished saying everything he thought, he turned to look at Akamatsu who looked like she was deep in thought, processing everything Saihara just told her and trying to formulate something to tell him to comfort him. Akamatsu sighs and holds onto her bag straps, turning to look at Saihara.

“I agree, Saihara-kun. As much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t notice most of that, so I’m glad you were able to see all of this.” She starts, “I won’t lie though. I have no idea how to help. You can try and confront him about it, but...we both know how hard that is to do.”

Saihara nods and sighs one more time, “I do know that. And you’re right. It’s going to be difficult to talk to Ouma-kun, even if I have managed to do that.”

Both sigh at the same time.

“Hey, don’t be like that, you two!” Momota suddenly says, popping into the conversation, “I’m sure you can do something about. Nothing a good sidekick can’t do!”

“Maybe so, but it’s going to be difficult.” Saihara says, and looks down as they continue to walk and finally make it to the entrance of the school. They had accidentally wandered the wrong hallways as they spoke to each other.

“Nonsense! I’m sure you can pull it off! I, Momota Kaito, Luminary of the Stars, know you can!” Momota says, patting Saihara’s back. Saihara can’t help but laugh at that and thanks Momota.

They continue walking and suddenly, Saihara sees Ouma for just a moment, the boy leaning on the wall in which the gates were at, and they pass by him, the trio walking to the road to their houses.

Saihara turns to look at Ouma one more time and sees he had already turned around and walked off to the opposite road...alone.

_ ‘Now’s my chance to talk to him!’  _ Saihara tells himself,  _ ‘But what if he ignores me? Or tries to run away? Not only will I have failed, but I’ll also probably lose the only chance I have to do anything to maybe help Ouma through whatever he’s going through! What if he does tell me what’s wrong and I don’t know what to do, too? I’ll just be wasting his time and upset him further. What do I do what do I do what do I do what do I-’ _

“Saihara-kun! Saihara-kuuuuuun!” Akamatsu says, waving her hand in front of Saihara repeatedly, “Hey! Are you alright?”

“Oh…? Oh! Um, yeah.” Saihara says, snapping out of it. How many times has he been doing this?!

“If you want to go talk to Ouma-kun, you should!” Akamatsu says, pointing at the direction Ouma had gone to.

“But…! What about you two?” Saihara nervously says quickly.

“We’ll be fine, Saihara-kun. Right, Momota-kun?” Akamatsu says, gently elbowing Momota.

“Yup! Definitely!” Momota says, giving Saihara a thumbs up.

“You should go now if you want to catch up with him!”

“But what if it’s too late?”

“Oh, no time to worry about all that stuff!” Akamatsu says, patting Saihara’s shoulder and pointing to the direction Ouma went to again, “Go get him, Saihara-kun! Hurry!”

And with that, Saihara began to jog over to where Ouma had gone to, Momota and Akamatsu cheering him on.

Man, those two were really supportive. Saihara needed to thank them for that.

He began picking up speed as he continue to jog, now running while others looked at him like he was some sort of madman. Well, like Akamatsu said, he didn’t have time to worry about all that stuff!

So he keeps running.

And running..and running...and running…and running...and

Wow. How far was Ouma already? Saihara felt like he’s been running for a while now.

It takes a few minutes for Saihara to actually catch up to Ouma, who seemed to actually teleport if Saihara has had to run  _ this  _ far.

Seriously, how long has he been running for?

As he nears Ouma, he notices that Ouma has heard him running and had already started walking faster, making Saihara only more determined to get to Ouma before it was too late.

He finally reaches Ouma and manages to tap his shoulder. He hears Ouma suppress a yelp and sees him raise his fist-

Ouma lowers his fist as he sees that it was Saihara who was following him, panting, face flushed. Saihara can hear the genuine shock from his voice, “Saihara-chan!?”

Why did he raise his fist anyway? Saihara wasn’t looking for a fight and as far as Saihara knew, he’d lose in one instantly anyway. He wasn’t exactly the strongest person in the world, not even with the training he had with Harukawa and Momota.

Saihara continues panting, both hands on his knees as he did so, “O...Ouma-kun! I didn’t think I’d be able to get to you…”

“...and  _ why _ are you following me?” He hears Ouma ask, crossing his arms, the shock noticeably gone from his voice, “Are you trying to look for my secret organization, Saihara-chan? Because let me tell you, your plan isn’t foolproof.”

“Of course I wasn’t looking for your secret organization!” Saihara says, finally standing straight, hands fidgeting, nervous. Great. What to do now? He honestly didn’t think he’d make it, really, “It’s just...you’re always alone when you walk home...and it looked really lonely. So...I was going to try and walk with you.” 

_ ‘Maybe talk to you too.’  _ But he doesn’t say, worried that Ouma would try and stop him from talking and even change subjects.

“Oh.” Ouma says, some shock placed back into his voice, possibly completely baffled by Saihara’s actions. In fairness, it’s not like Saihara ran after Ouma every day of his life. That would be...awkward. 

Ouma claps his hands together, “All right then, Saihara-chan!” He grabs Saihara’s arm and starts walking again, surprising Saihara as he did his best to follow after Ouma, “Let’s go!”

Saihara was shocked Ouma grabbed his arm, having actually expect him to turn his offer down or (and) make a run for it. Saihara wondered what made him decide to agree to this now, of all times.

Saihara continues to walk together with Ouma, arm still in Ouma’s grasp. Wow, this is fun.

Saihara was glad he actually managed to catch up to Ouma, maybe now he can talk to him…?

Saihara suddenly feels the grasp from his arm loosen and vanish, feeling admittedly sad about the sudden vanishing of warmth, Ouma walking a little faster and away from Saihara, hands on his back. He suddenly hears Ouma begin to sing, “I’m gonna live...‘till I die…”

“I’m gonna laugh ‘stead of cry…” Saihara sings back, slightly out of tone, recognizing the song Ouma was singing. Ouma turns to look at Saihara and Saihara smiles at him and he sees Ouma smile back, glad that Ouma didn’t seem to mind him joining in.

“I’m gonna take the town and turn it upside down…” Ouma sings back.

And a the same time as Saihara, they sing, “I’m gonna live, live until I die!”

They stare at each other for a moment before they burst into laughter. It felt like a weird inside joke between good friends. Saihara was having fun, honestly.

“I didn’t know Saihara-chan liked those kinds of songs!” Ouma says in a teasing voice. Saihara laughs again.

“Ah, my uncle really likes them, so I hear it a lot. I guess I just got attached to some of them.” Saihara replies. He walks faster to catch up to Ouma, hands shoved into his pocket as the day grew colder. It made Saihara wonder if Ouma actually had any clothes to keep him warm during the colder days. Maybe he can hold his hand in the meantime? Wait, why is he even thinking of doing that?! It would be awkward, right?! 

Saihara can’t help but want to do it anyway, but he pushes that aside and mentally notes to get Ouma something warm in the future.

“Cool!” Ouma says, turning to look at Saihara and grinning.

“I guess so.” Saihara agrees.

They walk in comfortable silence, Saihara grateful for the silence, but also aware that he still needed to ask Ouma something. 

Saihara’s about to finally make a move and say something when-

His phone began ringing.

Saihara grabs his phone from his pocket, the word ‘Amami-kun’ in all caps as the phone waited for Saihara to either answer the call or ignore it. Saihara presses the answer button, already worried that this was going to stop him from talking to Ouma.

The world  _ really  _ loved messing with him, didn’t it?

“Hello, Amami-kun?” Saihara says, covering his other ear with his hand, “Yes, I’m free.” No, he wasn’t, “...ah, I see…” He looks back at Ouma and then at the phone, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Goodbye.”

Saihara lowers the phone and looks back at Ouma, an apologetic smile on his face, “Amami-kun needs my help to tutor some of his sisters. He thinks I have a better chance at getting them to understand the lesson. Do you mind if I…?” Saihara points at the road.

Ouma smiles, shrugging and waving his hand, “Eh, sure.”

Saihara thanks him, gave one last goodbye, and began to walk away from Ouma.

The moment Saihara agreed to help Amami, he wanted to punch himself in the face.

Not busy, huh?  _ He was busy trying to talk to Ouma why did he say he wasn’t busy?! _

Saihara sighed as he continued to walk, realizing that he agreed because he owed Amami a favor for helping him study for one of their harder exams and to delay his conversation with Ouma out of nervousness.

“Ughhhh…” Saihara says out loud to himself, doing his best to ignore the person who looked at him with a confused look and continued making his way back to the other direction and to Amami’s house.

He’ll try again.

One more time! It’ll work next time! He knows it will!

But will it, really?

Saihara pushes that aside for now and continues on his way.

One more time! One more time! One more time...one...more time…?

Saihara hopes it won’t be too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Thanks for being patient and for reading ^_^!!!
> 
> Stay tuned and see if I actually update at the same month owo


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara takes a deep breathe.
> 
> “Okay.” He hears himself say as he walks around the school’s empty halls, the sound of his shoes stepping on tiles echoing together with the sound of his voice, “It’s been almost a month since you’ve said you were going to ask Ouma-kun about what happened three weeks ago. What happened to that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MAY BE POSTING THIS AT 5 AM ON THE LAST DAY OF MAY (it says may 30 tho for some reason even if its may 31 for me but oh well) BUT THAT STILL MEANS I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS IN ONE MONTH PLEASE BE PROUD OF MY LAZY ASS
> 
> 4797 Y A L L
> 
> Okay i think im good now
> 
> anyway, enjoy these 4000+ words of pain yall!!!
> 
> also wow, 20 000+ words for this fic, 344 kudos, and 3599 hits? amazing. thank you i love yall
> 
> (pls be nice to me this entire chapter was made during the times of 4 am-5 am for a few days while i was ridiculously sleepy and less coherent)

_\--2 Weeks Left--_

Saihara takes a deep breathe.

“Okay.” He hears himself say as he walks around the school’s empty halls, the sound of his shoes stepping on tiles echoing together with the sound of his voice, “It’s been __almost__  a month since you’ve said you were going to __ask__ Ouma-kun about what happened three weeks ago. What happened to that?”

He only really wanted to ask Ouma about that because during the days he had passed his room as he spoke to his other friends, he couldn’t help but smell a strange scent of blood mixed together with bleach and other cleaning materials. He had ignored it then, guessing that all the weird smells cleaning materials had had mixed together with each other and made a strange smell. And yet, the more and more he thought about it, the more he grew concerned with Ouma.

Ouma always dodged questions about himself (and he seemed to avoid them even more lately instead of lying out of them) and Saihara couldn’t help but notice just how different Ouma looked now. His skin was much more pale than it was before, his expressions looking less and less convincing than they were before, almost as if the only thing he can really seem to look was tired. He moved slower and he seemed to just…completely shut down and push away everything. Everything but Saihara himself, that is.

Saihara wondered what had happened for Ouma to act like this. Was he sick and worried about something? Did he hurt himself? Did someone hurt him? Was someone hurting him _ _right now__? __What is even going on even?__ No one knows at this point.

Saihara could have gone home by now, call it a day and decide to speak to Ouma next time (Read: Never.) and get his bearings until he can finally set the record straight and use the right words to convey just exactly what he was feeling (Even if that does sound like a challenge in itself.). But…there was something in Saihara, a strange gut feeling maybe, that this could be one of the last shots he has to speak to Ouma, and it’s been bothering him the more he thought about it.

Maybe it was because Ouma seemed so different now? The walls Ouma always had around him seemed to be so much taller now and it felt like it was harder to break them now. And his feelings…he didn’t understand them, couldn’t tell if they were right or wrong, couldn’t tell if he should follow them or not…it was ridiculously hard to sort them out, really. They were less organized and more like they were hopelessly floating around and no one could reach them. Not even the owner himself.

For someone who should know how to analyze and understand things and put them all together like an elaborate puzzle, he sure felt like he was doing a shit job at that whole thing.

So here he was, looking around for a boy with a checkered scarf and possibly find some sort of closure once he figures out 1) How Ouma is doing (he was suspicious that there was something happening to Ouma, something he didn’t want them to know and Saihara couldn’t help but possibly know what that thing is and it makes him even more anxious and more determind to see Ouma again.) and 2) Fix his jumbled feelings that would willingly dropkick itself into the deepest hole when possible.

He turns to the left as he continues to walk around, feeling close to giving up as he realized that Ouma could either no longer be around the area or is walking around some area Saihara has yet to check or has already checked.

Saihara lets out a frustrated sigh, turns around to look around the area one more time, and-

Nearly bumps into someone.

He only has a second to take a step back and avoid bumping into the person that seems to be speed walking out of the area and, as he sees that familiar mess of hair and a can of Panta being held on one hand, he immediately recognizes the person to be none other than Ouma.

They stare at each other for a few moments before Saihara finally raises his hand and waves, “Hello, Ouma-kun.”

For a split second, Saihara could have sworn he saw Ouma make an expression that said ‘Not now.’ but it vanished before he could confirm that and it turned into another smile, a strained one at that.

“Hellooo, Saihara-chan!” He says, keeping that smile on his face as he placed his hands behind his head like he usually does, “What’s up?”

“Not much, Ouma-kun.” Saihara responds, suddenly walking, Ouma beginning to walk beside him, “You?”

“Not much either! If you don’t count trying to figure out how to expand a secret organization as ‘not much’ that is.” He says in his usually cheery tone. Saihara can’t help but make a noise between a huff and a laugh at that, but he doesn’t say anything about Ouma’s (definitely not real) ‘secret’ organization.

It was right now when Saihara realized that he now had another chance to talk to Ouma, maybe get to know him a little more (and, you know, __see how he’s doing you’ve been worrying about this for weeks come on-__ ) And so, they have a conversation, talking about what came to mind as they mindlessly walked around the empty halls, voices and footsteps echoing and bouncing of every wall.

If Saihara was honest…it felt peaceful. A normal conversation between two people rather than an intense ‘I have exactly five minutes to talk to you so here’s a list of everything I need to say. Are you ready? Great let’s go.’ kind of conversation.

It was a rarity to have a peaceful conversation nowadays with Ouma, and Saihara was lucky to actually have one.

It’s a few minutes later when Saihara realizes that he no longer knows what to talk about and in a hasty thought to stop Ouma from leaving (assuming he would have left once the silence settled in.) he quickly muttered Ouma’s name out, got an “Mhm?” from Ouma, and said, “I…need help.”

Saihara suddenly feels himself becoming nervous, his expression showing it as a blush formed on his face.

“Well, what is it?” Ouma asked, his free hand motioning Saihara to say what was on his mind.

“I...you see... it’s just…” Saihara stutters out,  “It’s about...this person I may or may not like.”

…Saihara is about to throw himself into a hole and bury himself in it. Might even let Ouma himself do it. Of all the people he could have asked for advice about how he felt about Ouma and how to get all his feelings in place…he asked Ouma. Marvelous idea, really.

Saihara notices Ouma’s grip on the can tighten just a little.

Ouma continues to smile, tilting his head, sounding just as teasing as he usually is, “Really? Who is it?”

Saihara pauses for a moment, tempted to tell Ouma that it was __him__. But..that seemed too awkward and too out of the blue, right? Right??? So he doesn’t say anything because that is __definitely__  the next best thing to do. 

Ouma shrugs, “Alright then, what do you even need help with? I’m pretty sure a liar can’t help you in the love department.”

“I guess so, but you’re the only one who can listen to me right now. Akamatsu-san and the others are too busy. And…” Saihara looks at him straight in the eyes and in the most serious tone he could make at the moment, he says, ”I trust you, Ouma-kun.”

Ouma’s eyes widen and he looks rather surprised, but he seems to play it off, laughing quietly (which sent a weird sense of warmth to Saihara), “Trusting a liar now, hm? Well, it can’t be helped. People like you would probably trust anyone.”

Saihara can’t defend himself before Ouma continues talking, “So, what do you need help with, anyway? Don’t just say that and leave me hanging!”

Saihara was a little surprised but relieved that Ouma would listen to him, but also frustrated because he realized he can’t climb the metaphorical ladder out of the deep hole he’s dug for himself, so he does his best to continue anyway, “It’s just...I don’t know how to talk to them, Ouma-kun. One moment I think they finally make sense to me, but the next they become so frustrating that I want to actually scream.”

(He feels like that’s something he can say about some other people he’s met, but that’s a story for another day. Besides, out of all that people, Ouma was probably the first one on that list.)

Saihara sighs, “But...I want to understand them. I want to know who they really are. I want to know why they do the things they do. And maybe, just maybe, I do...and I feel like if I can fully understand them, then I’ll be able to tell them some things I’m so scared of telling them with as much sincerity as possible.I mean, I sincerely like them, Ouma-kun, but I want them to know that I’m not lying...that I’m telling them the full truth, no more and no less…” 

Is he sharing too much information? Well, who cares. He’s been keeping all this stuff in and now seems like a good time to actually let some steam out.

Ouma takes another sip from his drink, “I see. As far as I can tell, it’s going to be really difficult to get through this mystery person. But who knows, if you talk to them, maybe they’ll actually open up to you. That is, if you can earn their trust.”

“That’s why it's so difficult to talk them!” Saihara says, raising his hands up in frustration and keeps talking because if there’s a hole made for him, then he’s going to dig it himself and keep going, “They keep distancing themselves from everyone they see as if we’re some sort of plague and they never tell us how they really feel and they always have this smile that says ‘everything is absolutely fine’ even if it isn't and it's so-”

Saihara lowers his hands, “Tiring.”

Saihara felt like there was so much more he could say, but he realized that he was running out of steam before he even started and decided to just calm down for now and let out more later.

“What are you gonna do about it then?” Ouma asks, tapping his can on a wall, “It is gonna take a lot of effort to deal with someone like that. Even more, if they’re so annoying, why do you like them so much?”

Saihara is dumbfounded by Ouma’s question. He stops walking and taps his chin, and says the first thing that comes to his head, “It’s because of the times when they let us know the truth.”

“Eh?” Now it’s Ouma’s turn to look dumbfounded.

“It’s the times when they let us in. It’s a really rare event, but whenever I see just how kind this person can be, how amazing they are, how fun it is to be with them...I learned to enjoy those times I had with them.” Saihara says slowly and gently grips his uniform, “But I’m scared, Ouma-kun.”

“Scared?”

“I’m scared, scared that they won’t like me back or they’ll make up some excuse or lie.” Saihara says, letting go of his uniform and letting his hands dangle on his sides, “What if they hate me?” 

Ah, yes, doubt and anxiety, his life long best friend, how nice of them to join him on this lovely day.

“Hate? You?”

Saihara doesn’t know how to feel. Should he be angry? Sad? Confused? Why should he even settle on just one? Should he be sad and angry? Confused and sad? Confused and angry? _ _Angsadfused???__

“...I don’t know how to feel anymore.” He says, close to tugging on his uniform again, “I just wish I could understand them more.”

Ouma shrugs and Saihara wants to agree with him on that. Ouma leans on the wall, placing the can beside him and casually sliding down. Saihara stares at him until Ouma pats the place before him. Saihara hesitates but immediately sits down beside him, hands holding his legs. 

Man, what a mess.

Ouma offers Saihara some of his Panta and Saihara sadly smiles him, mutters something that he hopes sounds like a “Thank you.” and takes a few gulps. He grimaces right after, “This tastes bad.” He wonders why Ouma liked this drink so much, but that’s something he should probably not worry about for now.

Ouma shrugs as the can is returned to him, raising it to his lips and taking a few more sips before placing it beside him, “Hm, this seems like a mystery not even the detective can figure out.”

Saihara sighs, but nods. Ouma continues speaking, “The only thing it seems you can do now is to talk to this mystery person, see if you can spot the difference between truth and lie. Then, when the time is right, drop the truth on them full force. Maybe they’ll be willing to listen to you now, seeing as this person seems to be quite the liar.”

…Huh. That actually sounds like a good idea. But when and where he does it is the next new challenge he has but definitely doesn’t want. Oh well, he’ll worry about that…later. Right now could work but…later.

“...I guess so.” Saihara says, smiling at Ouma, glad that he could take a moment to just vent out some things and actually get his head back in the game, “Thank you for listening.”

Ouma shrugs, hands on his back, but smiles back, “Eh, sure.”

Saihara can’t help but continue to smile at Ouma, glad that even for a moment, he was able to enjoy some time with someone he considered important to him, close to him even. He just wish he could tell Ouma that the person they’ve been talking about was quite literally him. How he didn’t notice, Saihara wasn’t sure. Denial, maybe? Eh, it was always a mystery with Ouma. A fun mystery.

But, at least, this moment...gave him a small taste of what it could be like if things were…different, Saihara guesses? What kind of different Saihara had yet to figure out.

He’s about to ask Ouma if he wants to walk together with him and maybe even chat a little more (he doesn’t know what to talk about anymore, so he’s just going to ask the first thing that comes to his head) when-

Ouma starts to cough.

Saihara sees Ouma’s eyes widen as he continues coughing, each one getting worse and worse.

“O-Ouma-kun?!” Saihara says in shock, hurriedly patting Ouma’s back, “What’s wrong?!”

Ouma tries to stop his coughing and Saihara can see that. He turns to look at Saihara, his expression panicked as he speaks, “Sai...Saihara… _ _chan-”__  He struggles to say, but he continues to cough and Saihara is panicking because __what am I supposed to do?__  And he hates that he doesn’t know what to do, and then-

Blood falls onto the ground. 

Saihara staggers back, standing up as he gaped at the sight of blood, “Ouma-kun, what-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

Ouma coughs one more time and the flowers come out, stained with his own blood. Saihara watches in shock as he watches every flower fall out, glittering even as each petal was soaked in blood, almost like it was mocking them. Saihara’s head was spinning.

He…he suspected this, didn’t he? The smell of blood, the symptoms, they were all present. And as much as he enjoys being right because who wouldn’t, right now is the absolute __worst__ time to be right. Why didn’t he do anything when he was suspicious anyway? Doubt? Denial? Both? Ugh, emotions, they suck.

Ouma tries to look up only to see Saihara’s horror filled face, Saihara’s hands on his mouth as he continued to watch.

Ouma looks back down right after.

Finally, the flowers stop coming and Saihara is somewhat relieved but still panicked.

Saihara watches Ouma try to pick himself up and the more he sees Ouma struggle, the more Saihara wants to pick Ouma up and run to the nearest hospital (even if the nearest hospital is probably too far.)

“O...Ouma-kun-” He tries to say, but what exactly _ _is__  there to say?

Saihara sees Ouma try his best to crack a smile (and it hurts Saihara to know that it’s hard for him to do that when he does it so much.), looking back up, “What’s wrong, Saihara-chan?” He says in a low voice, struggling to stand up and lean on the wall as nonchalantly as possible.

“What’s wrong?!” Saihara nearly yells, close to running to a hospital __right now__ , “Ouma-kun, you’re-”

“I’m __fine.”__   He says, keeping his shaky grin and Saihara nearly tells him that that’s complete and utter bullshit.

“Absolutely not.” Saihara chooses to say instead in an angry tone. He tries to calm down, slowly forcing Ouma to sit down again to maybe lessen the pain, “Stay here. I’ll get help...somehow.”

“Okie dokie!” Ouma says with his faked smile, giving Saihara a thumbs up. Saihara wants to slap Ouma’s hand and tell him to stop pretending right now.

Saihara runs as fast as he can.

He runs around the whole school, screaming for help. He doesn’t care if anyone who happens to be there think he’s some sort of lunatic, __He. Needs. Help. Right now.__

A few minutes of yelling and running, he trips and falls onto the ground, groaning in pain as he rolled over and tried to stand up again.

Help. He needs to help Ouma. Someone could be dying right now and __he’s on the ground doing nothing and Ouma could be dead right now and it would all be his fault because he was too slow too slow too slow-__

“Saihara-kun?” Saihara hears someone say. He lifts his head to see-

“Toujou-san!” Saihara yells, and Toujou helps him stand up, her face filled with concern.

“I was walking around the halls to make sure everything was in order before I leave, but,” Toujou starts and Saihara smiles a little because that seemed to be something Toujou would do, “I heard screaming, so I came as soon as I can. Are you alright, Saihara-kun?”

“I-I need help. Ouma-kun is-he’s in trouble-he’s hurt and I don’t know what to do and I told him to wait there but I don’t know if he’s still there what if he’s not there anymore we need to help him-”

“Saihara-kun, please, calm yourself.” She says, holding both his hands and turning his attention to her, “What happened?”

“Ouma-kun.” Saihara says, “Ouma-kun is hurt.”

“...Are you sure it’s not just another one of his pranks?” Toujou says, lowering Saihara’s hands, doubt now on her face.

“It’s not! And I know it isn’t. Blood, Toujou-san, there was blood-”

“Blood?” Toujou cuts in, eyes slightly wide.

“He…he was coughing out so much blood and it was so terrifying to watch. And the flowers-”

“Flowers?!” Toujou cuts in again, gloved hand on her face, “You do not mean that Ouma-kun has-”

Saihara nods, a grim expression on his face.

“Saihara-kun, if what you say is true, then we need to get help __right now.__  Come, we might need help from the others and some of our classmates are still here.”

“B-but Ouma-kun could be-”

“But without any help, we might not be able to do anything at all.” Toujou says, “Now come on.”

Saihara wants to argue, but he knows she’s right. He sighs and starts to walk with Toujou.

A few seconds later, they’re both in front of a classroom and Toujou nearly slams the door open.

Saihara realizes that Momota, Harukawa, Gokuhara, and Akamatsu are still here. Why, he doesn’t know and how he didn’t notice before was something else he didn’t know.

“Toujou-san?” Akamatsu says, sitting on one of the desks, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ouma-kun.” Saihara responds, “He needs help.”

“Help?” Harukawa says, “What would he need help with exactly? Might just be another one of his pranks.”

“Don’t be like that.” Momota says, “If Saihara’s this worried and Toujou’s this riled up about it too, then maybe this __isn’t__  a prank.”

“You say that, but after that one time he fell down a couple floors and pretended to be dead? It’s best to take everything he does with a grain of salt.”

“Now is not the time!” Saihara yells, “This isn’t a prank this time and I know it. He was coughing up __blood__ , Harukawa-san, and __flowers.__ No matter how crazy his pranks could get, this isn’t one of them.”

“Wait!” Akamatsu says, standing up all of a sudden as everyone listened to what Saihara said, “Did you say blood __and__  flowers?” A nod from Saihara. Akamatsu gasps, “Then…that means-!”

“Yes. It does.” Toujou says, “We…need help. Right now. We came here to ask for some.” Toujou turns to Gokuhara, “If you could carry him, Gokuhara-kun, we can at least get him to some people that can help him.”

Gokuhara didn’t seem to fully understand what was happening, but he agrees nonetheless. Anything to help his friends, he says.

Saihara thanks all of them as they all agree to help and he starts to run back, the others having to run as well to keep up with him.

Once he gets to the right hallway, he yells, “Ouma-kun! Ouma-kun, I got some help-”

He stops dead on his tracks.

Ouma. Ouma was __gone.__

“Saihara-kun, what’s wrong? Why did you st-” Akamatsu says but pauses, eyes widening as she saw the blood and the petals that laid there, untouched.

The others finally caught up and took a moment to realize that it was definitely __not__ a prank and that Ouma __does__ need help.

“Saihara-kun.” Toujou says, stepping forward, “Where is he?”

“I…he was right here! I told him to stay here. He…left.” Saihara responds, realizing that Ouma was literally here somewhere, possibly __dying.__

He begins running once more, ignoring the sounds of his friends yelling at him to wait for them, and runs straight out of the school, turning to the road he remembers Ouma going through not too long ago, the same one they had both been at.

He runs and runs, but he realizes that he had no idea where Ouma lived. He could have known if he had stayed until the end of the walk, but he didn’t, and now that mistake was coming back to laugh at him.

“OUMA-KUN!” He yells as loud as he can, still running, hoping for any sign that Ouma wasere.

The only clue he gets stops him from running as he hears something crunch under his feet.

He takes a step back and he sees blood and petals on the ground, but no matter where he looks, the blood and petals are right there, telling him that yes, Ouma was here, but not anymore.

Saihara wants to scream one more time.

Tears prick his eyes as he realizes that he failed. He failed Ouma. __He failed.__

Saihara screams as loud as he can. Words leave his mouth, but he says so many things that even he couldn’t understand what he was saying at this point and he can feel tears beginning to fall down, __but he doesn’t care.__

He screams and screams and screams and cries and cries and cries. He failed. He couldn’t help Ouma. He couldn’t-

“Saihara-kun!” He hears someone say and he suddenly stops, snapping back into reality.

“A-akamatsu-san…” Saihara tries to say, voice hoarse after all that screaming.

“...you didn’t find Ouma-kun?” Saihara wants to scream again, but now he’s tired and whatever energy he had is gone.

“I…I failed him. I could have helped him but I didn’t-”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, Saihara-kun. We all could have, but…we didn’t.” Akamatsu says.

“I…” Saihara tries to say something again but he doesn’t know what to say or do. Akamatsu slowly raises her arms and Saihara gently tries to hug her. He starts to somewhat cry again and Akamatsu starts patting him, telling him that it’s okay and everything was going to be fine (though Saihara doubts that.)

“Come on, Saihara-kun.” She says after a few minutes, “We should go back for now. If he’s not here, he’s probably with someone who can help him or at least take care of him.”

“I…but…”

“We can’t stress ourselves about it. It’ll only make things worse. And I don’t think Ouma-kun would ever want that. So for now, let’s rest, okay? We’ll find him and he’s going to be okay. I…promise.”

Saihara wants to say no, he can’t, but he’s so, so tired and he can’t do anything anymore. Slowly, he begins to calm himself down, wiping his face with his sleeve, and begins to walk back the way they came.

He can’t do anything now, but he’ll help Ouma-kun. Because now, the stakes are even higher than before and the clock was ticking faster than it ever has before.

Saihara can only hope he can beat time and maybe, just maybe, save Ouma-kun (and possibly get his feelings straight.).

Saihara wants to scream again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, seeing all the typos i made and never noticed after rereading past chapters to jog my memory? i cry


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \--1 Week Left--
> 
> Ouma doesn’t go to school.
> 
> No one knows where Ouma is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS I'VE BEEN DEAD FOR MONTHS
> 
> anyway, i apologize for being gone for EONS. you'd be surprise how willing our school is to drop some shit on us (rip those 6 projects i had to do in one day)
> 
> this chapter is much shorter than the past chapters, so fuck. but, hope you still enjoy it!!! 
> 
> (i wrote this in two different time periods so pray it makes sense)
> 
> (also i feel like we're getting close to the end, so hopefully i can actually finish it soon)

_\--1 Week Left--_

Ouma doesn’t go to school.

No one knows where Ouma is.

Saihara wasn’t completely sure how, but rumours of Ouma’s sickness had begun to spread around the school like wildfire. Some people say that he had already died after his disappearance, some said that there was no way he was coming back to school after this, and some said that he probably already had the flowers that were growing in him removed.

Saihara couldn’t help but have difficulty believing the last one. He’s kept them this long and he knew that Ouma can be a stubborn shit when he wants to. He’d rather Ouma not be like that though and get some help. Please.

Of course, word eventually spread to their class and Saihara knew that 1) Everyone knew what was up, and 2) No one is going to talk about it because in his professional detective and classmate opinion, this is categorised under the “Awkward Things to NOT Talk About on a Beautiful Morning, or Night, or Any Part of the Day Really.”

Everyone had already made their way to the classroom, possibly passing people talking about Ouma on the way,and classes were going to start in ten minutes more or less. Usually, the class would be full of noise, majorly because Ouma can and will start something and have everyone a little riled up somehow, whether it be something like a remark or a prank he has for all of them.

It was quiet today.

Everyone else seemed to just be minding their own business. Iruma was tinkering with a small invention, Kiibo was writing some reminders, Akamatsu was writing down some notes on her notebook, and so on and so forth. Saihara wasn’t really one to start a conversation when he can feel tension in the air, so he kept his mouth shut, letting his fingers tap on his desk repeatedly instead.

Ever since Ouma had disappeared last week, Saihara had made an effort to look for Ouma. He had walked on the road he and Ouma had a conversation on weeks ago, looking for any sign of him and his ‘organization’. No dice.

Akamatsu, Toujou, Gonta, and everyone he was with on that day had helped him too, but no matter where they looked, there was no trace of Ouma, almost like he had just vanished into thin air, never to be seen by anyone ever again.

“Okay, everyone, I think it’s time to get the elephant out of the room.” Akamatsu suddenly says, sighing as she placed her pen down.

Everyone suddenly stiffened at that, especially Toujou, Gonta, Momota, and Harukawa, but hers was somewhat hard to notice if you didn’t look close enough.

“What are you talking about, Akamatsu-san?” Kiibo asked in what Saihara could describe as a “I know what you’re talking about but I don’t want to to acknowledge it’s existence.” voice.

Akamatsu could hear it in his voice too, “Ouma-kun, Kiibo-kun. The disease…it’s…” She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “We need to help him somehow.”

“How are we going to even help that fucking gremlin if he isn’t even going to show himself?” Iruma said, no longer paying attention to her little machine (is that an automatic pepper spray?).

“Language, Iruma-san.” Toujou said in a sharp tone, surprising everyone. Iruma shrunk down and muttered a small apology.

“Anyway,” Akamatsu says, “We need to find a way to help him. He can be somewhere we don’t even know! Or worst, he can be injured and he doesn’t even have anyone who can help him. I’m sure he can’t even help himself, especially with all of that…” Saihara could see she was remembering the scene she had seen just a few days ago, “With all that blood.”

“Yes.” Toujou nods to her, “Based on Saihara’s hurried description when he asked for my help, and the scene we saw on that day, Ouma-kun required immediate assistance. If he doesn’t…I’m afraid we won’t see him for a long time.”

Saihara’s stomach dropped at that implication of that sentence. He knew that could happen, but he had been in so much denial that he had done his best to push those thoughts away. Having someone else say it loud and clear made it even worse.

“Well, isn’t there any way we can find him?” Akamatsu asks, “I’m sure the school has records of his address somewhere.”

“Students aren’t allowed to look at them.” Saihara suddenly says, and everyone turns to look at him. Damn, Saihara really didn’t want everyone to fully focus on him. Too awkward, “I’ve tried. They say it’s confidential, especially since he requested to not let anyone see it and the school allowed that.”

“I guess we can’t find him that way either, huh.” Saihara hears Amami say. He turns to look at him and realizes that Amami looked pretty upset about it, even though his usually relaxed voice said otherwise. He thinks for another moment, “Well, do you think anyone would happen to know where he lives?”

Silence. Well, it’s not like they ever needed his address. What were they going to do, break into his house and have a throw down with him? Sounds fun probably but no.

“Maybe,” Yumeno starts, in a slightly sleepy tone, “If we figure out who he likes, we can find that person and maybe cure his sickness.”

“I agree!” Chabashira says, earning a small blush from Yumeno, “Even if he is a degenerate male, it would be wrong not to help him!”

“While that is a very kind suggestion, Yumeno-san, Chabashira-chan, “ Toujou says, clasping her gloves together, “Even if we do find this mystery person of ours, as long as they don’t return his feelings, there’s nothing we can do to help him on that department. Even if that person somehow does returns those feelings, as long as they are jumbled and they’re still confused about it, nothing will happen.”

A sigh from the whole class.

“There’s really no way we can know where he is? Or who he likes?” Amami says, raising his eyebrow.

“...is there something you know, Amami-kun?” Saihara asked, a little hesitant. Amami’s voice gave a message that it should be obvious and well, excuse them for not knowing it.

“Have you seen him act differently around anyone ever? Maybe a little nicer? Softer? Warmer?” Amami says, “Really, anyone where he basically doesn’t act like a complete jerk to.”

“Anyone he was nice to?” Harukawa asks, hand on her chin, “None I’m aware of, if he even acts nice around anyone, that is.”

Amami looks a little annoyed. “No one? Really?” Saihara wished Amami would just say something already. Enough with his whole cryptic personality, they need answers. And fast.

“Get to it already, damn it.” Iruma snaps at him, earning a quick look from Toujou.

Amami sighs, “Alright, the person who, without a doubt, Ouma-kun likes is-”

A door slams open.

“I apologize for my tardiness, class.” The teacher says, pushing her glasses back up, “I assume you are all ready for class?”

Amami turns to look at the teacher and turns back to the class, mouthing out, “Later.” and turning around again to look at the board.

Everyone shuffled back to their seats with the deepest sigh they could all muster, seeing this as a stupid cliffhanger when they were so, so close to the answer.

Saihara sat down, put his hands to his head, and grabbed his pen.

He can not worry about this for a few minutes, right? Just a little. Just for five seconds. One minute. An hour would be pretty ideal too. Really, any amount of time not worrying about a certain guy with purple hair is good.

Does he want to do it? Yes. Will he do it?

Ha ha, probably not.

* * *

 

Saihara notices how quiet the whole class is during lessons. The only noises that came through are the sounds of the teacher’s voice, pens scribbling on paper, some people asking if they can copy notes whenever they miss something the teacher says, pens tapping, and the sound of wind blowing through the open windows.

As much as Saihara wants to focus on the topic on hand, his mind keeps wandering back to Ouma. He had never seen him look so weak and frail, hands shaking as he struggled to stand back up, blood covering him and flower petals littering the floor. Ouma still continued to smile at him, his cocky nature still showed itself. He acted like he wasn’t scared, but Saihara knew it was just another lie. Everyone is scared to have something that can be so rarely curable.

Saihara felt guilty for never getting close enough to Ouma. Maybe if he did, he could have helped him somehow. Maybe even figure out who he had all those feelings for. Save his life. As long as he could help Ouma, he was sure everything would be alright.

Everyone seemed to miss him too, somehow, Saihara could tell. Everyone would look at his chair momentarily, and then at the door, as if he would come in right now, his usual smile out, and say another variation of, “It’s a lie!” before casually sitting on his chair and they could all just go back and pretend nothing ever happened or at least think it was a prank. A cruel one, yes, but at least it meant no one was hurt. No matter how pissed they’d all be for making them worry, Saihara felt like they’d all rather have that than this. Better to have the ‘asshole’ classmate than worry about them possibly dying, it seems.

Saihara attempts to attention to class, but he can’t. There’s still something bothering him, and it was bothering everyone too. And yeah fine it is Ouma what do you want from them? 

Personally, Saihara had quite a few questions he’d be happy to have answered in the possible future: Is he okay? Did someone help him? Where did he go? How did he vanish so quickly? Who is this mystery person he liked so much? Is it too late? If he could send these questions out to Ouma like it was some sort of Q and A session when it was Honest Hour, he probably would.

As the teacher’s dragging voice dragged the whole class with it, Saihara began to feel bothered by other things too. He still had a feeling he couldn’t describe for Ouma. It was soft and warm but at the same time it made him nervous in a somewhat good way. It might be excitement even, and the butterflies in his stomach would never cease its flapping and Saihara felt like there were so many words he could use, but no matter which he used, there was no way he could any of it to explain just how much he felt.

Man, emotions are hard and it could be kind of difficult to try and understand them when Saihara couldn’t even tell his own emotions from each other sometimes. What he thought was anger over a jar of jam on a day he couldn’t open it was actually just him doubting he could even open the stupid fucking jar. He even had to get Gokuhara to open it, damn it.

Saihara realizes he’s kind of lost the point of what he was thinking of. Anyway, point is, he tells himself, is that there is a feeling Right Now and it was definitely not going to go away. The minimum requirement of it leaving will most likely involve trying to figure it out (ugh.) and confronting whatever was making it happen (UGH.). Confronting things really never was his favorite. Couldn’t even confront a teacher about a test score when he found he got a higher score than the teacher counted. Hell, the person who had to help him with that was Ou-

Oh. Oh, wow. The thought just got kind of sad, didn’t it. Saihara lets out what he can only assume is the millionth sigh he’s given out in his sixteen years of living. Everyone lets out a sigh too, almost as if agreeing that why yes, Saihara Shuichi, there is some shit you got to fix ASAP, RSVP even.

Saihara is close to going on another spiel about his crisis when the door to the classroom slams open and Saihara recognizes the black and white clothes the person is wearing.

Except this person isn’t Ouma, even if she wears nearly the exact thing as Ouma. She looks frantic, eyes tearing up, appearance disheveled and the two rubber bands keeping her hair together in two ponytails refuse to actually function as a hair tie. “Everyone!” She yelled.

Suddenly, Saihara feels like he’s seen this person before. Not on purpose, but after bumping into her months ago, and he remembers Ouma calling for her, a smile Saihara felt was genuine on his, and her name was-

Amami immediately stood up from his desk and everyone turned to face him, “Shiori-chan?!”

He suddenly looked much more worried than he did before class had started.

“Amami-kun!” She yelled, louder than the last one. She ran to him, ignoring the teacher’s questions (“Who are you?! And how did you get past the guards-”) and began saying something too fast for everyone except Amami to catch, but it made Amami furrow his eyebrows. He pat her head, telling her to calm down, then he turned to face the class.

“Everyone, I know where Ouma-kun is.” Amami announces and everyone, including the teacher, listened intently.

“Well? Where is he?” Akamatsu says, voice calm but face filled with the same concern she had for everyone.

“He’s-” Amami starts, but Shiori cuts him off, “-IN THE HOSPITAL!”

The room makes no sound except for the clock that kept ticking on as everyone wrapped their head around that thought.

“... _ _what?__ ” Saihara hears himself say, even when deep down it felt like this was bound to happen sooner or later. What did they expect, for it to just go away if they ignored it long enough? As far as Saihara knew, that only worked at fucking nothing.

“Can you take us to him?” Toujou calmly asks, but Saihara could see her shoulders slight hunch of nervousness.

Shiori nods quickly, “Please, follow me!”

In some sort of mutual concern, everyone immediately abandoned the classroom, with some slight hesitance from others as the teacher demanded they come back, but no one listened and the last sounds everyone could hear from the sixteen people walking away was the sound of shoes clicking on the floors and out the gate, somehow distracting the guards long enough to escape.

Saihara can feel himself get more and more nervous as they near the hospital, and he can see everyone was nervous too.

Saihara hopes Ouma was okay, but if he was honest, that’s probably too much to ask for at this point.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma can barely open his eyes. When he does though, he kind of wishes he just kept them closed anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's already dec 26 by the time i post this but MERRY SHITSCRAM EVERYBODY!!! this is my dumb as shit gift for y'all and i hope you mclove it
> 
> i wrote this in the span of 3 days at like 12 am to 6 am like an absolute tool
> 
> anyway, enough from me. enjoy this approximately 6000+ words ride
> 
> (also wow DICE members with names i picked because i thought they sounded nice)

_\--1 Week and 5 Days Left--_

Ouma can barely open his eyes. When he does though, he kind of wishes he just kept them closed anyway.

He’s laying on the couch he and Shiori drank tea in not so long ago (or was it? Ouma’s memory was feeling a little too muddy to remember anything right), and his entire family was surrounding him in a circle, having probably stayed there all day to make sure he was alright.

“Hey.” He says in a small voice, wincing from how painful his throat felt, almost as if it had been unused for months.

“Ouma-kun…” He sees Shiori say, closing the small space that separated the two from each other and sitting down on the couch. She lets her hand gently glide over to Ouma’s face, Ouma welcoming the touch and softly smiling at her. She looks like she wants to frown, but she tries to return the smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Never better.” Ouma humorlessly says, regretting it a moment later once he sees Shiori frowning. “Sorry.” He whispers, raising an arm he only realized now was hanging off the couch and on the ground this whole time and reaching for Shiori’s hand, squeezing it as tight as he could. With how tired he is, that’s all he can really do.

In another day, this interaction would have been just part of one of the many things the two of them do, probably would have been Shiori’s way of asking if she could hang out with him, almost as if he’d say no. Not that he would ever say no. He had no reason to.

He sees Hanayo come closer from the corner of his eye, her short hair covering her face as she leaned down to look at him. She kneeled, her hair tickling Ouma’s face. She reached for his hair, running her fingers through it, something Ouma knew that she knew soothed him, especially whenever he seemed a little too stressed out at times.

He could see the others nearing in as well, trying to speak to him, asking him if he needs something or if he was feeling better or not. As much as Ouma would love to answer their questions, he was too busy trying to focus on his breathing, the pain refusing to leave him alone for just a moment.

Hazuka offers him a glass of water that he gladly takes, her long brown hair braided into one long ponytail to let her see more easily without her hair obstructing her view. She tries to smile at him, but Ouma can see her smile was shaking, allowing him to see she was worried for his well being.

He raises his head just by a bit takes a sip of water, feeling some relief from it as his dry throat thanked him..

“Hang on a sec.” Hiro suddenly says, moving the hair that covered half his face away for now, “Give him some space. His breathing is worrisome.”

Everybody takes a step back except Hiro who helps Ouma get into a sitting position to help him have an easier time breathing. Ouma quietly thanks him and Hiro responds by patting him on the back.

“Ouma-kun, in all seriousness, how are you feeling?” Hiro asks him, and Ouma lets out a strained laugh.

“Like shit.” He says, and Hanayo makes no move to reprimand him for his language, knowing that Ouma was completely tired at this point. His paler looking skin (She didn’t think it could get even paler) and dull eyes said a lot. It said __too much.__

“Ouma-kun…” Hiro says, but doesn’t finish what he’s about to say, like he already knows what the answer is to whatever he was going to say.

Nobody says anything after that, and Ouma finds that he doesn’t know what to say either. __“Are you sure you don’t want to remove those flowers?”__ Is what Ouma knows Hiro was going to ask, but they all know that Ouma Kokichi would be far too stubborn to ever say anything other than a “Yes.” to that question. Not now, not ever, even at a time like this and in the state he’s in.

He opens his mouth, but he sees Pierro stand tall (Not like he had to stand any taller. He’s the tallest as is, anyway. His afro was helping him with that, too.) and cross his arms, eyebrows furrowing for a second before his face softens up.

“Let’s all just…get rest for now. I’m sure we’re all tired after everything that’s happened today.” He says, turning to Hanayo’s slightly distressed face, “Including Ouma-kun.”

“I’ll carry him.” Zurui offers, running his hands through his sand colored hair. His twin, Odayaka, offers to help him. Zurui doesn’t stop him from helping him carry Ouma and they both bring Ouma up to the bedroom they all share.

Of course, with the fact that they weren’t exactly the richest in town, they pretty much found home in an abandoned house that could never fit a family of ten, but they did what they could to make it more comfortable.

Zurui frees one hand from his grip on Ouma and flips the light switch beside it, illuminating the room.The bedroom was pretty small, the “bed” inside being a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor, all of which they could find around the house. The only actual piece of furniture was a small table in the center of the room mostly used for Tea Time. Technically, that meant they could sleep anywhere, but whoever was closest to the table was probably going to wake up and hit their head on it.

Zurui has Odayaka completely hold Ouma and goes in front both of them to fix the room a little. A few minutes later, Odayaka places Ouma down and puts a blanket over him. Ouma realizes his shoes are gone and wonders when that happened.

“Sleep well, Ouma-kun.” The twins say simultaneously, and Odayaka flips the switch once more, the light that once weakly illuminated the room vanishing instantly. Ouma sees both of them walking out of the room.

“Wait.” He says, voice strained. Both brothers look at him and Ouma suddenly feels embarrassed for suddenly speaking up, “Can you…both stay here?” He asks hesitantly, and Zurui nods.

Odayaka whispers something to his twin, and Zurui nods. Odayaka leaves the room and Zurui takes his own shoes off, walking over to Ouma and laying down beside him, “He’s just going to do something quick. Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, and Ouma hears more than just a pair of footsteps walking up the creaky stairs. Through half closed eyes, he sees the rest of his family enter the room one by one, all choosing to try and sleep as close to him as possible, Hanayo, Hiro, and Shiori being the closest.

Shiori is holding his hand too tightly, but Ouma doesn’t say anything about it. He feels Hanayo reaching for his hand too then feeling Shiori’s hand and pulling hers back. Shiori reaches for Hanayo’s hand and holds it with her free hand, offering Hanayo whatever comfort she can.

If Ouma had payed enough attention before he ended up falling asleep, he would have heard a small sob come out of someone’s mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

 _ _\--1 Week and 4 Days Left--__  

He wakes up with the sound of Hazuka’s voice waking him up, her long brown hair contrasting Namaiki’s short brown hair, his usually cocky smile gone for once. Both of them were kneeling right beside him, but only Hazuka was trying to wake him up while Namaiki just watched. He was probably just sent to help Hazuka if she didn’t manage to get Ouma to come out of bed.

“It’s time to eat, Ouma-kun!” She says cheerily, though it comes out a little more forced than anything.

“Oh, sure.” Ouma says, realizing that he sounds tired. It almost feels like he didn’t even sleep for who knows how long, though he was thankful that he could feel some of his strength had returned to him. Last night’s events must have really left him feeling completely burnt out. “What time is it?”

Namaiki looks at the clock full of small cracks in the far corner of the room, the device ticking loud enough for the three of them to hear even when they’re so far away from it, “About three in the afternoon.”

Oh. Oh wow. It’s been a while. Not that Ouma knew. He __was__  too busy being unconscious to see the time he even got to his house last night.

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” Ouma asks, slowly pushing himself up and getting his legs in a crossed position.

“You seemed really tired.” Namaiki responds while Hazuka tries to fix Ouma’s ridiculously messy hair, “Hanayo-san requested that we don’t disturb you for now.”

 _ _‘Ah, of course Hanayo-chan would do that.’__ Ouma thinks with a small smile on his face. Hanayo always did act like a mother to all of them, even if she isn’t that much older than all of them. After Hazuka is satisfied with the way his hair looks, though it remains nearly just as messy, Ouma feels some of his strength return to him and manages to go downstairs with the two DICE members.

Once he gets downstairs, Ouma is greeted by the sight of his family’s eyes all aimed at him. He wonders if they’ve been waiting for him to come downstairs this whole time.

“Good afternoon, Ouma-kun.” Pierro says in greeting, patting the boy’s head and giving a warm smile. Ouma smiles back, but everyone can still see that he’s not as strong as he’s pretending to be. Even easily finding out that he’s lying was something to be worried about.

“Why don’t you go sit down over there?” Pierro points to the small table and couch Ouma remembers sitting with Shiori in not too long ago, though it felt like it was a long time ago.

Ouma doesn’t say that and nods, walking over to it and sitting on the corner of it, letting himself relax on it.

Ouma feels like shit and he knows he looks like shit too. His hair was probably messier than usual, even with Hazuka’s help. His skin was paler, his clothes felt crumpled, and he was pretty sure the smile on his face was too lopsided to be as genuine as he tries to make it. Besides, breathing was still too hard to do as easily as someone should, his entire body hurt, and his throat felt like it was on fire.

“Here you go, Ouma-kun.” Hanayo comes out of the small kitchen and gives him some leftovers of some noodle soup. Ouma has no idea where they got it from, but he doesn’t have the heart to say anything as Hanayo looks at him with worry. He grabs his chopsticks, picks up the bowl where the soup is in, and starts eating.

The soup was warm and even if it hurt his throat a little, it was still somewhat soothing and it tasted pretty good, too.

Ouma feels the couch shift, and turns his attention away from the bowl to see that Hiro is sitting beside him, a glass of water in his hand.

“How are you feeling?” Hiro asks him. Ouma shrugs.

“Not as great as I’d like to be.” Ouma admits. He can tell that his lies aren’t as good as they should be, and he felt a bit of guilt whenever he lies to his family anyway.

“That's not good.” Hiro says, “Well, I doubt you'd even want to leave the house right now, especially since I assume that someone's found out about your...condition.”

Ouma sighs.

“Who was it?” Hiro asks, and Ouma feels like humorlessly laughing again.

“Hm. That doesn’t sound good.” Hiro says, taking a sip of his water, “I presume that you won’t be going back to school soon? It seems that some people know about your...condition.”

Ouma sighs loudly. Hiro raises an eyebrow, “Who was it?” Just from that, Ouma wants to humorlessly laugh again, but instead turns to Hiro.

“Well, you won't be-lieve who of all people found out!” Ouma declares with a smile on his face, his voice making it sound like he was telling a joke rather than something he wasn’t happy about. Hiro seems to understand what Ouma means and stops himself from asking more questions.

Before the silence between the two could get any more awkward, Hanayo joins them on the couch, sitting on the free space beside Ouma with her own small bowl of noodle soup, chopsticks held perfectly.

“Anything interesting you guys have been doing these days?” Ouma asks to take his mind off of things and to avoid the questions he knows they’d all eventually end up asking.

“Not much.” Hanayo responds, “We haven’t done much since you went to Hope’s Peak.”

Ouma makes a noise of acknowledgement and tries to let himself relax on the couch, letting himself sink into it as much as possible to avoid the gaze Hanayo started pointing at him.

“Your hair is a bigger mess than the usual.” She softly says, and puts her bowl down on the table in front of them, using both hands to try and pat some of the stray hair down. Hanayo (and pretty much everyone in this household) seems to fuss over his hair way too much, but Ouma doesn’t mind it, seeing as they all tell him that he fusses over all of them back.

“Your hair isn’t looking like its at its best, too.”  Ouma says, noticing only now that her hair was slightly ruffled and pieces of it were in odd places. “Did you get any actual rest?”

“Ah, you noticed.” She says, knowing he’d notice sooner or later, “And yes, I did get some rest.”

Ouma doubts that, especially with how tired Hanayo actually does look, but he doesn’t press on it anymore. He wasn’t looking too good, either.

Ouma wants to say more, but he suddenly feels the pain in his chest begin to worsen and he slams his bowl down on the table a little too hard, alarming the two DICE members sitting beside him, and puts one hand on his mouth, coughing loudly and painfully into it.

Hanayo suddenly looks distressed and Hiro’s usually calm expression is replaced with one of genuine worry. Hiro pats Ouma’s back and Hanayo whispers words of comfort to Ouma.

A few minutes pass, and Ouma can feel the pain begin to recede and become more manageable. He lets out a sigh of relief and lets his hand leave his mouth at last. He hears the two DICE members gasp and he looks at his hand in curiosity.

There was some blood on his hand and a single golden flower petal laid on the center of his palm, a part of it also covered in blood. He realizes that some blood was also on the corner of his mouth, and Hanayo shakily wipes some of it off with her hand.

“O-ouma-kun…” She whispers. Ouma doesn’t have to look at her to know that she was so, so worried for him. Ouma wants to shove this feeling of guilt he felt for letting her feel like this, but all he does is gulp, tasting some blood still there.

He looks up and sees that the rest of DICE was there (When did they all get there?) and they’re all looking at him with expressions of varying concern and horror. Ouma looks away because he hates seeing them like that.

“I’m going to take a nap.” He says as quickly as he can. Nobody stops him, not even Hanayo, and they all hopelessly watch as he walks up at the stairs and closes the door to their shared room a little too harshly.

Ouma doesn’t sleep, and just like that, he spends the rest of the day avoiding all of them.

Ouma can’t tell if the feeling in his gut is pain or guilt.

 

* * *

 

 

 _ _\--1 Week and 3 Days Left--__  

He spends the day out in the garden, just like he promised Shiori and Hazuka weeks before the entire shitshow happened.

The garden was located just behind the house, and Ouma was pretty sure that there used to be a lot of flowers growing in the area before the previous owners abandoned the house, remembering the time he had thrown away hundreds of wilted plants to clean the area up. Nowadays, some flowers grew, mostly thanks to Hanayo, Hazuka, and Shiori being pretty damn good at planting and maintaining plants. There was no fence, and the garden extended to a forest that seemed to have no end. He remembers playing there when he was younger, when they were all younger, and they had nearly gotten lost a couple times while they were at it.

Today, he was sitting on the grass with Hazuka and Shiori, both gathering a few flowers from the numerous areas that the flowers ultimately decided to grow on.

“Let’s make flower crowns!” Hazuka had said excitedly, “It’ll be fun!” Ouma knew it was her way of trying to make the thought of flowers less terrifying, especially for Ouma’s case, though he never said that out loud.

Now here they were, Ouma struggling to make a flower crown while the two girls made their own with ease while instructing him.

Eventually, he makes his own, but he offers it to Hazuka instead, who gladly takes it and places it on her own head. Her long brown hair was completely untied today, reaching the ground and surrounding her. The crown of flowers made her look like some sort of princess, and Shiori said as such, making both girls giggle at that comment.

This, in Ouma’s opinion, was peaceful. It was nice to just be able to relax with his family and enjoy himself. His family did always know how to cheer him up.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Shiori puts a flower crown on his head, each flower a different shade of purple. Ouma smiles, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Shiori smiles back, and starts humming as she makes another crown, “This one is for Hanayo-san. Wanna help me make one for the others, too?”

“Of course.” Ouma says, and he starts trying to make a new one, already failing as the flowers refused to cooperate with him.

A few frustrating minutes later, Shiori pats Ouma’s back and helps him make the flower crown. It looks like some of the flowers had slightly wilted before Ouma had started, the once yellow color of it becoming brown on some corners. It kind of reminded him of himself.

He ignores that thought and puts the flower crown on Shiori’s head, a few stray pieces of grass falling off of it as he did so. Shiori smiles as her way of saying “Thank you.” and Ouma smiles as his way of saying “No problem.”

Hazuka had already made two more flower crowns during the whole exchange Ouma and Shiori had and Ouma wonders just how fast she was working to finish that (that, or how slow __he__ was working.)

Ouma fondly thinks of one of the times he and the two girls had been in the garden.

__“Soooo…” Hazuka mischievously says as Shiori kneels behind her braiding Hazuka’s long hair while Ouma lit a small fire as the night surrounded them, “Who’s the guy you’ve been gawking at in Hope’s Peak?”_ _

__Ouma nearly drops the twig he’s about to put into the fire to keep it going and turns his head to Hazuka, who was sitting across from him with an innocent smile. “How do you even know that? You haven’t even seen him before.”_ _

__“Ah, so you__ admit __there’s someone you like! I told you I was right, Shiori-san!” She says triumphantly, Shiori simply laughing, “You know how sometimes we wait for you by the school gates? Well, it was hard to ignore that look you were giving one of the students you were talking to, so I definitely have seen him before!”__

__“Alright, alright, keep it down. You know Zurui-chan, Namaiki-chan and Kisaku-chan would never let me hear the end of it.” Ouma hurriedly says, making a zip motion in front of his mouth and pointing at the door._ _

__“Hah hah, okay.” Hazuka says, and Shiori cuts in before the brown haired girl can say anything else._ _

__“So! Who is he?” She asks excitedly, looking directly at Ouma as her hands continued to braid Hazuka’s hair._ _

__Ouma seems to hesitate for a few moments, but shrugs at the end, “His name is Saihara Shuuichi, Ultimate Detective and all that.”_ _

__Both girls make an “Ooh” noise at the mention of Saihara’s title. “I know, a liar liking a detective. How original.”_ _

__“Oh, don’t be like that, Ouma-kun.” Shiori says, finally finishing the long braid and proceeding to move so she can sit beside Hazuka and cross her legs, “Come on, tell us about him!” She places her cheek on her hand, her elbow on her leg as she grinned._ _

__Ouma grins back, “I don’t know,__ should __I tell you both of you anything about him?” His question is returned with the two yelling “Of course!” out loud and he laughs, “Okay then.”__

__“Well, for starters, he’s a pretty interesting guy.” He says, leaning forward like he was going to whisper something to them, “It’s difficult to even just try to predict what he’s going to do! He does a this instead of that, a zig instead of a zag, he chooses x instead of y, it almost feels like I’m playing a game of sorts with him.”_ _

__“He’s also the only person in my class who’s willing to actually try and talk to me instead of giving up as easily as the others did, which is a surprise on its own, too. Oh, and-”_ _

__Shiori can’t help but see how happy Ouma looks when he talks about Saihara, his hands moving in sync with the rise and fall of his voice, his eyes twinkling as he talks about Saihara’s personality. It made both girls smile at him with fondness._ _

__“-And that’s why I like him, not to mention his good looks.” Ouma says with a wink and the three laugh._ _

__“Wow.” Hazuka says, “You must really like__ - _ _like him__  and _like talking about him i_ _f_ _ _you didn’t realize that Hanayo-san has been listening to us this whole time.”__

__“What.” Ouma says in confusion, and he turns to the door to see that it’s opened, Hanayo leaning on it, arms crossed, with a smile on her face. Ouma flushes when the fact that Hanayo heard him go on a rant about a person he “like-likes”, as Hazuka puts it, finally settles in._ _

__Hanayo walks over to Ouma and ruffles his hair with her hand, “Sounds like someone has a lot to tell me about during dinner.” She says jokingly, but Ouma knows that she’d love to hear about Saihara, too._ _

__“What did I just hear?” They hear a voice from the doorway they recognize as Kisaku’s voice, “Ouma-kun is in love?” Ouma sighs and pinches his nose in embarrassment._ _

__“Did anyone__ else __hear me talk about Saihara-chan?” Ouma says to the doorway, and he sees the rest of DICE looking at him, all of them with smiles on their face.__

__Kisaku leaves the doorway and walks over to Ouma as well, adjusting his huge scarf around his neck as he does so, and the other members join him and soon all of them are in the garden, surrounding Ouma. Ouma sighs._ _

__“Hey, Ouma-kun!” Namaiki says with his cocky smile in place as he slings one arm around the purple haired boy, Zurui, who’s sitting beside him and across from Namaiki, does the same, “Why don’t you tell us even more about this “Saihara-chan” you like so much?_ _

__Ouma sighs again, but he can’t help but smile when everyone starts laughing again, and he soon joins them, the sound of ten people laughing bouncing off into the night._ _

Ouma is once again ripped from his thoughts when he sees Shiori hugging Hazuka, Hazuka’s head bowed down as her shoulders shook, quiet sobs shaking her whole body.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ouma asks, unable to hide the concern he was feeling. Hazuka looks at him, her eyes filled with tears and aimed at his mouth before she bows her head down again.

Ouma looked at her, confused, then he put a hand to his mouth, wiped it, and pulled his hand back. Some blood had began to drip out of his mouth and he failed to notice it, having been too wrapped in his memories to reailze it.

“It’s okay, Hazuka-chan!” Ouma says, wiping his hand on his clothes and giving the best smile he could give at the moment, “I’m feeling fine right now-”

“D-do you know how we found you, Ouma-kun?” Hazuka asks him all of a sudden, and even Ouma is taken aback by the sudden question, but Hazuka gives him no time to answer, “You were on the g-ground, Ouma-kun. You were screaming and cursing and crying. Shiori found you first and she started screaming, too. She was shaking you and Hiro had to pull her back.”

“There was so much blood, Ouma-kun, even more blood than that time you came back with all those bandages on your forehead after you said you fell down a couple floors. I- _ _we__ were so scared for you. I thought you were…” She doesn’t let herself finish that thought, because she can’t stand the thought of what could happen if she even lets herself think of it.

“Hazuka-chan…” Shiori says, tightening her grip on the girl.

“I…I’m sorry.” Ouma says, “I’m sorry I hurt you this much.” Hazuka loosens Shiori’s grip on her and hugs Ouma instead, her face on his scarf and surprising the boy who returned the hug nonetheless.

“It’s okay, Ouma-kun. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me or anyone here on purpose, especially if you can stop it.” Hazuka tells him. He doesn’t stop her from tightening her grip on him, “It’s just…it’s n-not f _ _air.”__

“What isn’t fair?” Ouma asks her and he hears her start to sob onto his scarf.

 _ _“This!__ All of this! You don’t deserve to feel pain, especially for loving someone as much as you do! You’re one of  the best people I’ve ever met in my life and it’s not fair that you’re going to go like this! I hate this! __I HATE THIS!”__ She screams the last part, and Ouma hears someone open the door. He sees Odayaka peeking through the door, and Ouma gives him a look that tells him not to move. Odayaka nods.

Ouma doesn’t let go of Hazuka as she continues sobbing, knowing that she must have bottled all her anger and sadness up for far too long. She needed this, and Ouma wasn’t going to stop her. His grip tightened even more as Hazuka began to shake even more, and he hears Shiori begin to sniffle, too.

“Hey, Shiori-chan.” He says. Shiori looks at him and he releases one of his hands and makes a hugging motion. Shiori finally lets out a sob and hugs him.

He sees all of DICE now looking out the door, not knowing what to do. Ouma can clearly see now how tired and concerned and afraid they for him. He wants to say yes to the surgery, just to make them smile again, but he knew deep down that they would know he was lying and that he himself would never be happy.

He nudges his head in a way that told all of them to just go to him already, and they all break out in a run to get to him.

Soon, his family is completely surrounding him, hugging him from all sides, some crying as well. Hanayo is hugging him, muttering apologies like it was her fault this was happening, and Ouma shushes her and lets her cry. Even Hiro, who Ouma has never known to be one to shed tears, was letting his own tears fall down his face, his face scrunched up with pure sadness as he struggled to hold a sob back.

He lets all of them cry and never complains about how his leg was starting to feel uncomfortable from all the weight surrounding him.

Ouma doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he feels Hazuka let go of him, wiping her face with her sleeve. Her eyes are red and puffy, her hair disheveled.

A few more minutes pass, and everyone begins to move away as well, wiping their own faces and doing what they can to compose themselves.

“Oh, it’s starting to get pretty dark out, isn’t it?” Kisaku asks. Ouma looks to see the sky was starting to get dimmer and dimmer.

“Huh, we must have been pretty busy for it to start getting so dark right now.” Zurui says, earning a few weak smiles from the others.

“Well, I don’t know about any of you, but I’m feeling tired myself.” Ouma says, adjusting the flower crown on his head and pretending to yawn.

“Ah, me too.” Hazuka yawns.

“Why don’t we all just go up, maybe get some rest. Even if that’s all I’ve been doing lately.” Ouma suggests. They all look hesitant, but Pierro nods and the others follow suit, “Great! Let’s go.”

With that, they all walk up the stairs, their shoes making loud thud noises on the old wood, and Ouma opens the door. They all take their shoes off and they all fix the place up a bit, placing the pillows in a way that they could all huddle around each other, the table being moved from its usual spot, the center of the room, and being moved to the corner to make their plan work.

They all lay down with a sigh and Ouma feels just how tired he and the people around him are. He can already feel his eyes beginning to close.

“Hey, Ouma-kun.”  Shiori whispers, Hazuka and Hanayo quietly snoring beside her.

“Yeah?” He whispers back, Hiro and twins also laying asleep beside him.

“We love you.” She says, “And if this is what will make you happy…then we won’t stop you.”

“Thank you.” Ouma responds, smiling at her, “I love all of you, too.”

Shiori smiles at him, too, and she looks up to the ceiling and Ouma does the same, “Goodnight, Ouma-kun.”

“Goodnight, Shiori-chan.”

 

* * *

 

__\--1 Week and 2 Days Left--_ _

Ouma’s eyes snap open and he has to force himself not to hurriedly stand up, his chest beginning to hurt again. He lays there for a few minutes, struggling to breathe as quietly as he can to make sure he doesn’t wake anyone up. The pain vanishes and comes back repeatedly, following a pattern Ouma couldn’t find.

Slowly, the pain leaves at last, and Ouma sighs in relief.

He looks to his left and right, hoping no one had woken up from that. He slowly stands up, making an effort to make the sound of his footsteps be as nonexistent as possible. He makes it to the door, ignoring his shoes and reaching for the knob and gently twisting it, pulling the door open as fast as possible to try and avoid the creaking noise it makes when the door is slowly opened. He sneaks out of the room.

He reaches the couch, unsure of what his plan was once he does get down here. He shrugs, walking over to the kitchen and reaching for one of the few mugs they had for tea. He grabs an old water boiler and waits for it to heat the water up. Once done, he pours the water into the mug, dropping a tea bag into it and watches the water begin to change color. He returns to the couch and makes himself comfortable, waiting for the tea to cool down a bit to take a sip.

“Ouma-kun?” He hears a familiar voice say. He turns to see Hiro standing there, eyes slightly unfocused, hair still messy. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I could ask you the same, Hiro-chan.” Ouma responds, attempting to take a sip of tea, “In fact, I __will__  ask: What are you doing up so late?”

“I heard someone leave the room, but it was too dark for me to see who it was, so I just came down here to check.” Hiro tells him, fixing his hair while he walked to the couch, shoes left behind. “You?”

“Woke up randomly, so I just got some tea.” Ouma says, taking another sip and putting the mug close to Hiro, “You want some?”

“I’ll pass.” Hiro says.

They both sit their in silence, the silence only lasting for a few minutes before Ouma speaks up again.

“Anything you want to say?” Ouma asks Hiro, already able to tell just by Hiro’s body language that there was something he wanted to say.

“You noticed.” Hiro says with a hint of a smile behind it, “…how much time do you have left?”

“What?”

“How much time do you have left?” Hiro asks again, his voice now completely serious. Ouma looks away from him.

“I don’t know how long exactly, but I don’t have much time left, not when I’m like…this.” He says and raises one hand, waving it at himself.

“Oh.” Hiro says, and the silence comes back. “Do you…are you…are you sure this is really what you want? We still have time, Ouma-kun. I know we do it.”

“I…I can’t, Hiro-chan. I really can’t. I couldn’t forgive myself if I went through with it.” Ouma says, his voice tired.

“But what about us, Ouma-kun? What about your family? I heard what Shiori-san said. I know what she said, but do you really think we’re all just going to turn the other way and easily accept that this is happening? We’ve been a family since we were all children, Ouma-kun, you of all people should know how we’d all feel.”

“I know I’m being selfish.” Ouma says, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears, “But I can’t do it. And I’d never want to do it. No matter what anyone says, I don’t want to do it.” He knows he’s repeating himself, but he can’t stop himself from doing it.

“Ouma-kun, please.” Hiro says, and Ouma can hear just how weak his voice is too.

Hiro may be a year older than him, but Ouma knew that they were closer than most of DICE, their closeness rivaled only by Ouma’s closeness with Shiori and Hazuka. Hiro had been there for him and Ouma had been there for him as well, this routine going on since even before the concept of DICE had come to life all those years ago. Ouma wanted nothing more than to let Hiro have this, but he knew that he couldn’t say yes out loud even if he wanted to.

“I’m sorry.” Is all that Ouma says and he can see the defeated expression Hiro gave him, knowing well that Ouma wouldn’t change his mind when he wanted something. Smart but stubborn, Hiro remembers describing him when they were younger. Those parts of Ouma never changed at all.

“...I understand.” Hiro says, finally giving up, “If that really is what you want, I won’t try to stop you any longer.”

“...Heh. You sound like Shiori-chan.” Ouma mutters.

Hiro laughs. “I know.”

“But, thanks-” Ouma cuts himself off as he unexpectedly begins to cough, and just like a few days ago his coughing gets worse and worse. He drops the mug, said mug landing on the carpet and dropping its content as it shattered. And that was his favorite mug, too 

Hiro can only stare in horror as he rubs Ouma’s back, asking him if there’s anything he can do to help Ouma at the moment, but Ouma can barely breathe through all the coughing, and he falls onto the floor, his hand digging into a few of the fallen shards of glass.

He stopped, and for a few seconds, silence was the only they heard. Then, Ouma coughed once, twice, thrice, then began to throw up.

Hiro gasps, watching as Ouma began to tear up in pain, blood mixed with what little food Ouma ate being barfed onto the ground, full grown flowers joining in after a while.

“Hi-…Hiro-ch…Hiro- _ _chan-”__ He struggles to say once he finishes, slowly turning his head to look at Hiro in the eye, “Help.”

Ouma collapses on the floor when Hiro picks him up, blood coating his fingertips, and yells for help.

 

* * *

 

 

__\--1 Week and 1 Day Left--_ _

Ouma can barely keep his eyes open.

He hears muffled talking followed by screaming and crying, a hand gently holding his and another hand gently stroking his hair, a voice whispering that he was going to be just fine just please stay-

“I…ca…y…” Ouma tries to say something, anything, but he can’t even muster enough strength to do anything else. Even with all the strength he regained, it wasn’t enough to help him last any longer than just a few days. He wants to cry again, but he stops himself from doing so, no longer wanting to bring more stress to his family than he is already bringing.

“Shhh.” He hears someone else say, “It’s okay, Ouma-kun. Just rest. You’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I wo…won…t..not okay…” He tries to say, unable to stop himself from doing so. He can barely do anything without wanting to stop already and just go to sleep. He hears the voice again, but his thoughts are too mixed and confused to make sense of it.

“Sorry…I’m…sor…ry.” Ouma mutters, a tear falling from his eye, and he can somewhat hear someone telling him not to be sorry and to just breathe it’ll be all okay I promise I’m so sorry-

“Love…all of you…” He finally says, and he can’t focus enough to say anything else.

The voice must know that because it tells him to say nothing else and to just rest.

Everything is too hard to understand and Ouma wants to follow the voice’s suggestion, but he wants to protest at the same time and stay awake 

He feels something surround him, and a hand continues to hold his tightly. Another voice whispers to him to just relax and close his eyes.

Ouma, despite all the pain he was feeling in every part of his body, felt some sort of peace, like it was all going to be okay, even when everything was not okay.

Finally, he takes the two voices’ advice, and he closes his eyes, letting himself relax.

 _ _‘Hanayo-chan, Hiro-chan, Shiori-chan,everyone…’__ He struggles to think as his thoughts hopelessly blur together, __‘You too, Saihara chan…I love you, all of you.I’m sorry.’__

He blacks out.

**Author's Note:**

> ey yo this is me from the future (aka like feb 2019) and if you wanna see when the next chapter's up, find me at chaoti-clesbian at tumblr!
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy the story dude!


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